Framed
by MikaelaLynn
Summary: Thor is dead, Tony's been framed, and they've thrown him in a cell across from his favorite psychopath. Needless to say, Tony Stark has had better days. [Loki/Tony; FrostIron]
1. Chapter 1

**Set after the end of The Avengers and shortly before the beginning of Thor: The Dark World. Enjoy!**

* * *

When he was placed in a holding cell, his ears were still ringing with the sound of metal striking metal.

There were train wrecks that were in better shape than Tony Stark. His hands shook and sweat beaded on his brow, the perspiration sliding down skin that was as pale as death. He was hunched forward, elbows on knees and his head in hands, doing his best to collect himself. But he could hear his heart pounding in his head, drowning out almost everything else. His chest was tight, his breathing was labored; he was in a full-blown anxiety attack.

He needed to calm down or the void would swallow him again.

Breathe, Tony, breathe, he told himself. It's fine. You'll be all right.

And then the past grabbed him by the throat and dragged him down, down, until the portal engulfed him again and the open universe unraveled before him. Flashes of light burned out the present; Tony was again staring into the darkness, witness to alien life and endless space. He was choking. Explosions sounded around him, the force vibrating through his very core. There were screams, there was death... The armor flickered and failed and he was falling, suffocating, and all light was being extinguished...

Tony awoke, gasping, like a drowning man pulled to the water's surface. He was on the floor now, on his hands and knees, rocked to his very core. He could see the blood on his hands where it had leaked in through the suit's joints. It made him sick.

"Tony." Steve stood on the other side of the prison bars, strain on his Herculean features.

He pulled himself to his feet, grasping the cold iron bars for support. The grief in Steve's eyes was like a kick in the stomach.

"Steve, I swear, I didn't..."

Anger set in the soldier's jaw at these words and he sharply turned from his comrade, moving a few paces away. Though his shoulders were square and he stood tall, exhaustion was a heavy burden on him.

"I saw you, Tony."

"But-"

"We all saw you."

"Steve, please-"

Then there were two hands grasping his shirt through the bars, lifting him high off the ground. An alarm sounded somewhere.

"Why?!" The words tore through the Captain's throat, heavy with emotion, "He was your friend, Tony! An Avenger!"

Wordless, Tony could only stare. Steve threw him across the cell, where he collided firmly with the brick wall. That would leave a mark.

"You betrayed him, Tony!" The bars bent around Steve's hands as he pressed them apart, flakes of cement falling from the ceiling as the iron warped where it had been bolted in. Steve's foot found home in Tony's stomach, sending him to the floor. "He was a good man!"

The abuse continued, even as SHIELD agents flooded the room.

Tony didn't blame him for it, really. He knew he would do the same thing if the tables were turned. He would be just as angry and just as upset; he would want blood to pay for blood, and he would damn well have it.

But then the Black Widow was on Steve's back, arms looped under his and restraining him, her legs folded firmly around his waist. Hawkeye was close behind, arrow notched and aimed true. Bruce Banner hung back at the twisted bars.

"Captain, fall back."

Tony wiped blood from his lips as he spotted Agent Coulson, the forever composed bastard finally entering the scene. He stepped through the bars as Natasha released Steve, who all but shrugged her off. Though still seething, his fists shaking at his sides, it seemed the solider had been subdued.

"Anthony Stark is currently is protective custody, Captain, and we can't have him dead on our watch." the agent reminded, "Asgard expects us to hold Stark soundly until he can be transported."

Tony blanched.

"Asgard?" Bruce finally spoke, his voice deceptively restrained, "You are not telling me-"

"Stay calm, Bruce." Natasha said, her eyes wary on him.

"-I am calm. But if you are insinuating we are handing over Tony to Asgard for judgement-"

Clint's grip on his bow tightened as Bruce stepped into the cell, which was now bursting at the seams with all its inhabitants. "Bruce, he murdered him-"

Bruce's fists clenched and everyone tensed. Tony managed to sit up.

"It's all right, buddy." he spit out blood, trying to find his humor, "I'm not afraid of some old men in dresses."

"Gentlemen. Natasha." Coulson interrupted, "This matter is now out of our hands. The arrangements have been made. Tony will be tried in Asgard, like Loki."

Bullshit. It wasn't anything at all like Loki, Tony thought bitterly. Fury just wanted to sweep this pretty little mess under a rug and cart him off to a place where SHIELD couldn't take blame for whatever happened. One-eyed bastard.

"But Tony isn't Loki."

"No." Steve agreed, "He's worse, Banner."

* * *

Twenty-three hours later, Tony was transferred not to Asgard, but to Avengers HQ. Pepper was forced to shut down JARVIS to primary functions only and Clint tossed him in the Hulk Tank, leaving him to rot.

Maybe it was for his own safety, he decided, because Steve had torn apart those last iron bars like he was straight out of a cartoon. Still, it was insult to injury to lock an engineer in the prison he had designed himself.

This was Hulk Tank 2.0, safely nuzzled inside the security of Avengers HQ instead of set to drop out of a helicarrier. It was on Banner's floor, meant to give him somewhere to go if there was a sudden anger management crisis. At first, Tony had been hesitant to make it. They could deal with a little Code Green no problem, he had argued. But Banner had insisted and now it was Tony's personal little hell. With no visitors and no AI to talk to, he was worried he might go insane.

He was hanging off a support beam on the ceiling when the elevator across the room opened its doors, a pleasant ping sounding out. He didn't look to see who it was, instead continuing with his pull-ups.

"Three cheeseburgers and a large coke, please." he snarked.

"Tony."

Pepper Potts was standing on the other side of the glass wall, worry in her eyes. She had a tablet and a clipboard clutched to her breast, her knuckles white around them. At this, Tony immediately dropped down, grateful and surprised all at once.

"Pep." Then, a flurry of words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop him. His hands were on the glass and he was leaning towards her, desperate. "I'm telling you, Pep, it wasn't me, the suit just went, JARVIS wasn't responding, something glitched, something went wrong, the HUD went down and it wasn't me and I couldn't-"

She shook her head, placing one of her hands to match his against the glass.

"I know it wasn't you, Tony."

Relief flooded him, nearly knocking him to his knees. He let out a shuddered breath, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against the cool glass.

"All the evidence says it was." she admitted, trying to be gentle, "I've got Fury and SHIELD drowning in paperwork, but there's nothing else I can do. An interstellar incident, they keep telling me, and JARVIS' records... they..." she swallowed, "You don't have many good cards in your hand."

"Just pull the flight logs." he suggested, "There's got to be something in them. An inconsistency. A hack, maybe."

They both knew no one could hack into those suits. He was grasping at straws now.

"The flight logs are normal, Tony. JARVIS has scanned everything a million times, and he's sure there's no inconsistencies. With the video feeds on top of that... everyone is convinced."

"Why aren't you?"

"Because I know you, Tony. They don't. This isn't you."

To this, Tony gave her a grateful smile. If ever he had seen an angel, she was standing in front of him.

"Then let me out." he whispered, meeting her gaze, "Remote activate Mark I and II and we..." But he trailed off, seeing the pain in her eyes. She wasn't here to spring him. She wasn't Bonny and he wasn't Clyde. "Pep..."

Her lips pursed into a thin line, tears gathering in her eyes. She looked down and away, trying to compose herself with deep breaths. He felt the overwhelming urge to reach out and wrap her in his arms, as if that would fill the craters inside them.

Fuck, their break up had been easier than this.

"I'm trying." she promised, "I'm trying, but... it doesn't look good."

He shook his head, looking up to her.

"I'll figure this out." It was a promise.

"You always do." She smiled weakly. "I'm here to help you get things in order." Her admission was quiet, heartbroken, and she finally his gaze again. "Bruce says..."

"Forget Bruce."

Tony took a deep breath, shoulders slumping in defeat. Sliding to the floor, he sat, legs crossed and a hand scratching at the stubble of his beard. He looked like shit. They hadn't let him shave, which was a crime in and of itself, so his signature goatee had grown out. He tried not to think about the fact that he was still wearing his underarmor, which was stained with splatters of Thor's blood. No one had given him anything else to change into, as if they needed continued proof that he was guilty.

Pepper followed suit, folding her legs underneath herself and placing the clipboard on her lap. She wiped at her eyes.

"It's only just in case."

Like that made it any better.

"Just... let's get it over with." Tony sighed, defeated, "What do I need to sign?"

They talked for hours, settling out his affairs. Tony didn't have any children (that he knew about), so Pepper was going to get it all - the company, his houses, his robots, his suits, and JARVIS. Everything. She could either burn it all or keep it; he didn't care. The only thing they signed away to someone else was Avengers HQ, formerly known as Stark Tower, to Steve. He would get that, along with a small chunk of money. Though, "small money" to Tony was subjective.

When it was all done, Pepper solemnly gave all the paperwork to a robotic arm that dropped down from the ceiling, who would transfer it inside the cell. Tony took all of it in steady hands and ignored his pet peeve, but his eyes were on his once-secretary.

"I'm sorry-"

She shook her head, staring him dead in the eye.

"Don't you dare."

He smiled a little, glancing down to the paperwork.

"Yeah, I don't like goodbyes either."

A pen sat on top of the paperwork, waiting, but she had left him a more important gift. Hidden halfway through the stack was a inconspicuous little ear piece, which Tony was overjoyed to see. One sly sweep of his hand later, he had it tucked away in a pocket while he pretended to double-check their work. He could have kissed Pepper.

"There."

He signed the last page and buried the pen underneath all the sheets. The cap peeked out of the side and he shoved his hands in his pockets, letting the robotic arm return all the paperwork to the CEO of Stark Industries.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark."

Despite her formality, she looked on him with eyes full of fondness and sadness. Again, she placed her hand to the glass, and Tony mirrored the action.

"If you die, Tony, I swear to God I'll kill you." she vowed.

He couldn't help his smile.

"You just take care of the kids, Pep. I'll be all right. Always am."

They both took a deep breath of finality, hands falling from the glass. Pepper gave him a false smile and Tony faked one back.

"Thanks. For everything."

If Tony had started thanking people, things really were bleak.

* * *

Two days later, they carted him off to New Mexico. An angry brunette slapped him when they got there and Steve dragged him to some designated place in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, refusing to look at him the entire time.

Tony didn't waste his breath trying to convince them that he was innocent. He was quiet until he and Steve stopped at the Bifrost point, Captain America's grip far too tight on his upper arm.

Bruce hung back and watched with sad eyes, cleaning his glasses one too many times for it to be normal. Pepper stood next to him, here even though Steve had been against it. She had told him he could kiss her star-spangled ass when he had tried to tell her she couldn't come, and Tony remembered why she was his favorite CEO. Ever.

"Just make sure they get my arc reactor back to Pepper, Cap'." Tony murmured when they came to a stop, his eyes glancing up to the open sky above them.

Steve gave him a sidelong glance, silence stretching for a long moment. But he eventually gave a stiff nod and there was a flash of sadness in his baby-blue eyes.

Well, maybe ol' Rogers did care about him after all.

When the Bifrost beamed him up Tony forgot all about the grief he had seen in Steve's eyes. Jarred and confused after interstellar travel, it was a miracle he remembered what a goddamn behemoth of a man had told him when he arrived. His name was Heimdall and he had welcomed him to Asgard, then said some foreboding words about death before a small infantry of Warriors showed up.

Guards in gaudy gold outfits hauled him off down a rainbow bridge and Tony wondered idly how much damage he could do with the pen he had knicked off Pepper.


	2. Chapter 2

There was death in the Liesmith's eyes.

Tony swallowed. Pressed up against the far wall of his shiny new hospital-white prison cell, he tried to look at anything but the seething God of Mischief. The floor, the stone columns, the guards, the shimmering force field - anything that would keep his attention away from one royally pissed off Brother of Thor.

What sort of sick joke was this? Stick the mortal in the cell across from the guy who wants to gut him - that's a _wonderful _idea. He might even be dead before the execution!

The Warriors Three, a hulking and intimidating gang of Thor's warrior-friends, had dropped him in this hotbox. Tony had tried to convince them he was innocent, hoping that the Asgardians were more persuadable than SHIELD, but they ignored him; everyone did. All they could see was the dried blood on Tony, splattered across him like a bad piece of modern art.

Thor's blood.

"The great and mighty Thor Odinson, struck down by a man encased in mechanics." Loki's voice cut through the silence like a blade, a deep and angry tone to it. The way the sorcerer paced his cell was not unlike a caged animal. His emerald eyes were on Tony, lit with a great flame. "They say that you, a mere _mortal_, felled the greatest warrior of Asgard. Were he not such a fool I would think it impossible."

"I-"

Loki stopped dead in his tracks, spinning on a heel to face Tony directly.

"Silence, Stark, lest I rip the tongue from your mouth and feed it to you."

Tony's jaw set. Thor's little brother was a royal pain in the ass, and he really didn't give a flying fuck whether or not Loki believed him, but he did not want to be number one on that shit list without a suit in immediate range.

"I didn't kill Thor. That's your thing."

"You would have the gall to deny it when you stand bathed in his blood?" Loki spat, "Lying doesn't seem to be one of your talents."

"If I was lying, wouldn't you know?" he countered, glaring. "God of lies, and all? Or maybe you've lost your touch after we beat the shit out of you - no, it's all right, I get it. A good Hulk-out treatment can do a number on a guy."

This earned him a deadly look, but Loki's eyes had moved from murderous to calculating. Seeing the opening, Tony stood right at the edge of the cell and looked him dead in the eye.

"I did _not _kill Thor."

Loki's gaze bore into his soul for what seemed like hours. Despite this treatment, however, Tony didn't budge. He matched the gaze and stood strong, refusing to back down.

After an eternity Loki let out a short laugh, amusement washing the anger off his face.

"...I believe you."

Tony felt somewhat uncomfortable at the amount of relief that admission brought him. Loki was now watching him intently, a smile tugging at his lips. Tony was like an ant under a magnifying glass, and it made him itch with anxiety.

"Oh, I _like_ this." A wicked grin came across the Trickster's face, all teeth and goddamn lethal.

When Loki liked something, it never meant any good for anyone in a twenty mile radius.

"If you wish to survive this, Anthony Stark, you will tell me what conspired betwixt you and Thor, with no detail spared." The sorcerer glided into a chair, green eyes still on his new friend. "It may save your pathetic little life."

Tony swallowed through the lump in his throat, taking a deep breath. Alarms were sounding in his head and every voice in his mind was urging him not to say a damn thing. But if he wanted to get out of this, a deal with the devil might be his only choice.

Tony sighed, fishing the ear piece Pepper had smuggled him from his pocket. He put it in place just for the comfort of it, then began to tell his tale.

* * *

Loki didn't talk to him after that. He paced his cell, read books, tossed a little figurine up and back about a million times, and slept. Tony realized he should be grateful the God's attention was off him, but he was finding that the silence was torture.

So he started assessing his surroundings, poking at the walls of light that kept him in his pretty white box. Once, he poked too hard; an explosion of energy shot him back from the perimeters of his cell, slamming him against the far wall with a resounding crash. Fingers now burned and ego bruised, he did his best to ignore the snickering guards. But that wasn't about to stop the caged mechanic.

Tony did this for days - or for what seemed like days, at least. It was impossible to tell. He poked and prodded at the corners of his box, where white wall met magic wall, and his hands traced the seams of the panels in the ground. No one seemed to pay him any mind; to them, he was some crazed mortal on a quest to escape the greatest prisons of Asgard. He wouldn't succeed.

A problem only arose when Tony started taking notes.

"Hold your horses." he put his hands up in surrender, a simple ball-point pen weaved through his fingers, "It's just a pen."

Tony was aware that the issue was that he had a scary, pointed object, and not that he had begun to scribble all over the walls of his prison. Though it wasn't out of the range of possibilities that he could've been breaking some obscure Norse law. Defacing kingly property, maybe?

"What sorcery is this, mortal?" one of the guards snapped, "How did you come into possession of that item?"

Well, it was their own damn fault they hadn't searched him. As far as security went that was a little pathetic, but Tony had chalked it up to them being overconfident in their jailing protocols. That was obviously wrong, because he now had two guards with silly golden helmets shaking spears his way, all over a little ink in a plastic tube.

Loki was watching this. The Prince was lounged in his chair - why did he get a chair and Tony got a cold, hard floor? - with a book in hand, now resting lax in his lap as he observed the situation at hand. He paid no mind to Tony's glances towards him, idly scanning over the notes that had been written on the walls from afar.

"It is _my _sorcery, you fools." Loki snapped his book shut loudly as he stood, smirking as the guards jumped in response. "Can a Prince be allowed no entertainment? Let the mortal scribble. Neither you nor the throne of Asgard is offended in his nonsense."

Tony's eyebrows shot up. The last time Loki had "helped" him, he'd been "helped" straight out a window. Not that he preferred that treatment. No, this change of spirit was quite welcome, albeit suspicious.

"Return to your posts." Loki gave a dismissive wave of his hand, "I assure you, if he manages to gut anyone with a writing utensil, I will lay my neck on the executioner's block in your places. Be it on my honor as a Prince of Asgard."

The hand resting across his heart was a little more than needed, but despite the obvious mockery, the guards were calmed. They returned to their posts, neither wanting to go against their Prince nor test his patience. Someone might just end up dead.

To Tony's sudden displeasure, he realized he had re-earned Loki's attention.

"_Don't give them a reason to kill you. Not yet._"

He nearly jumped out of his skin, eyes wide. A palm to his ear-piece, which had been all but dead until now. Loki's damn voice was coming through it, peppered with static. From across the hall, the sorcerer chuckled in his cell and returned to his book.

"_Asgard is leagues ahead of you and your metal men, Anthony Stark. As am I._"

* * *

It didn't take long for Tony to have the walls covered in what Loki called "utter nonsense." Once white walls were now more akin to the pages of a journal, with Tony's black handwriting and sketches nearly filling up one entire side of the room. He didn't seem to be getting anywhere with anything, much to Loki's amusement, but it kept him from going insane.

As for Asgard's Next Top Model, he had moved on from the cold shoulder to commenting on everything Tony did, just to get under his skin. The silence must have gotten to him too, and now Tony was the unwilling participant of Loki's scrutiny.

But at least the guy was clever.

"Your mind is far too limited, Stark. Asgardian children better understand the concept of magic than you do."

Then again, that didn't mean the commentary was appreciated.

"Well then, enlighten me, Obi Wan." Tony challenged, throwing him an annoyed glare. "Instruct your young Padawan the ways of the Force."

Loki raised an eyebrow at this.

"Your insufferable and annoying references to Midgardian culture are lost on me. You realize this."

Tony wouldn't dignify that with a response. Anyone who didn't appreciate the original trilogy didn't deserve his time of day. In fact, he imagined Loki would be the kind to like the other three unspeakable films of the series. It would only be fitting for a super villain.

"But perhaps there is merit to your words, nonetheless."

Loki was lying on his bed, tossing that figurine up in the air again. (It was a wooden horse, but Tony couldn't figure out why it had eight legs.) When he folded his hands behind his head and glanced to Tony, it was suspended in the air above him. The mechanic rolled his eyes. Really, who didn't freak out about a psychopath having magic, but saw the oncoming apocalypse when a mortal had a pen?

"To use your phrase, magic is a 'force.' A force that turns will into reality. It cannot be grasped unless the wielder intimately understands the very fabric of the universe."

Tony's brow furrowed. He opened his mouth, but Loki continued on.

"And once you comprehend it, the energy of the Nine Realms is visible before you. It can be bent and twisted, manipulated and torn asunder. It is power. Unstoppable. The only thing to halt magic is magic itself."

There was a sudden explosion of light as the wooden horse cut through the air and collided with the force field. It ricocheted off, hitting the back wall and clattering to the ground.

"The stronger spell will always prevail."

This caused a momentary disturbance in the wall's transparency, gold veins seeming to pulse as lines of light fanned out from the collision point. Still, whatever the wall was made of seemed to repair itself; in moments, the wall was as clear as crystal again. A flash of annoyance crossed Loki's face and he stood, begin to pace again. He was always pacing.

"Perhaps that is why brother mine could not halt you, Stark."

The scratching of Tony's pen stopped.

"You think-?"

"I _know._" Loki corrected. "Magic played a part in this farce, and simple magic at that. One would think an self-proclaimed hero would have greater resistance to the tricks of a child." He tsked. "To think that I could have turned you to my will without the scepter is almost disappointing."

Tony stood, scratching at his chin. He really didn't like beards. Too bushy, too dirty, and too damn itchy. How did the Asgardians do it?

"Performance issues, like I said. Not uncommon."

Loki gave him a scathing look. "Your attempts at jests do you no kindness, Stark."

He shrugged, running his hand through his hair. "So it was voodoo. Great. How do we prove it?"

"It is not that simple. The magic has long since been purged from you, taking the mark of its caster with it." He shook his head. "Being entranced will not be an adequate defense without proper proof. My opinion on the matter would do you more harm than good in a court of Odin."

Tony groaned. He leaned against a wall, tired rings under his eyes.

"So I'm screwed."

"Your eloquence never fails to astound me." Loki murmured, "But yes, Stark. Your future is bleak."

An empty silence fell between them, neither having anything more to say on the matter. Without anything better to do, Tony caught himself watching Loki pace. Barely realizing he was doing it, he let his eyes wander up and down and back again. The Prince of Asgard definitely wasn't lacking in the looks department, all legs, leather, and pale skin.

Loki let out a thoughtful hum, pulling Tony from his distraction. If he had noticed the wandering eyes, he said nothing on it.

"In what manner did Thor react during the assault?"

Tony swallowed, looking away. "Why does it matter?" He pressed his back against the wall and let himself slide to the floor, arms resting on the top of his knees. Anxiety brought him to twist his hands.

Loki moved to pick up his fallen figurine, giving it a curious glance as he rolled it between his long fingers.

"A passing curiosity." He murmured. "No more."

Loki placed the wooden horse on his table as he passed, sliding back onto the comfort of his mattress. The silence was deafening.

"He seemed... scared. Didn't fight back." Tony closed his eyes, letting his head rest back against the wall. "It didn't make sense."

Loki's face contorted oddly, as if he was conflicted between anger and laughter.

"The mighty oaf is never afraid."

* * *

Once, Tony could have sworn he woke up to the sound of a woman's voice saying his name.

The first time this happened, it was during the shift change of the guards. It was impossible to tell the time of day, but Tony always assumed that when the guards swapped out (a twice-daily occurrence) that it was either late night or early morning. There were fifteen minute gaps in between when one group would leave and the other would arrive, though no one seemed to think twice about the lack of supervision. Tony imagined that this lapse in security was because they had some awful changing of the guard ritual to go through upstairs, but even that seemed far fetched for Asgard.

Whoever had woken him was gone. There was no woman to speak of. Half-convinced it was a dream and seeing that Loki was asleep in bed across the hall from him, he groaned and rolled over on the hard floor. Why did the stupid pale bastard get a bed and he didn't? Sure, Loki was a Prince, but he had tried to commit genocide and Tony hadn't; that had to count for something. Where was Asgard's sense of fairness?

He hadn't quite fallen asleep when he heard it again. Now determined to catch whoever was creeping on him, he pushed himself to a sitting position, eyes darting around the dungeon for a source.

A woman was visiting in the cell across the way, looking grim in her seat at the table within. Loki sat across from her, back to Tony, and they conversed in a language he didn't understand. Tony sighed, tired and confused. What the fuck was going on? A thought came to mind of conjugal visits and he quickly shut his eyes tight and held back a groan, disturbed. That was the last thing he wanted to be witness to.

When bravery returned and he opened his eyes again, he was able to assess more of the situation. The woman, whoever she was, was dressed to the nines - gold jewelry, braided hair, expensive fabric, and an impeccable fashion sense. Or at least Tony imagined so, because he hadn't really had access to the Asgard equivalent of _Vogue. _(At least Fury had offered Loki a magazine when he'd been cooped up in the Hulk Tank.)

The woman's eyes fell on him quite quickly, however, and Loki turned sharply in his seat to glare at him. All it took was a deliberate movement of the sorcerer's hand and the scene morphed into something far less conspicuous; Loki's image was now in bed, tossing that goddamn figurine up into the air over and over again.

Well, that was new. Or maybe it wasn't. Shit.

Tony rolled back over and tried to go to sleep again, not at all impressed by Asgard's complete lack of concern over Loki. The fact that a prisoner had the ability to magically bullshit them any time he wanted was not only troubling, but it displayed a sad standard for security protocol. Tony had seen small-town police stations that had been more cautious than this.

Maybe they didn't know they had a Houdini locked behind bars, he thought. Loki didn't seem to give a shit one way or another if Tony knew what his capabilities behind force fields were, but maybe he had been sly enough to keep it under wraps otherwise.

If that was the case, Tony Stark decided Asgard was full of morons.

As he drifted back to sleep, he contemplated selling the Iron Man specs for a pillow and a blanket.

* * *

Imprisonment was a bitch.

At first, it hadn't been so bad. There was plenty of new tech to keep his mind busy, and when his hand cramped from writing all over the walls, Loki might even be in a decent enough mood to talk to him. Now that he wasn't running about New York blowing shit up, Tony had the opportunity to learn exactly who Thor's little shit of a brother was. And, frankly, what he learned surprised him.

When it came down to it, Loki was smart. Scary smart. Almost-as-smart-as-Tony smart (because no one could ever get him to admit that anyone was actually smarter than him). The Asgardian had a vast knowledge about almost everything, though most things about Earth were foreign to him. Midgard was for the fools, he claimed, and that was why Thor was so fond of it.

Not to anyone's surprise, one of Loki's favorite past-times was bargaining. When he would entertain Tony for a conversation, even that was a transaction.

"A story for a story makes imprisonment so much more interesting, does it not?"

Loki dealt in the currency of words, and luckily, Tony was plenty full with those. It was a story for a story, a lie for a lie, and a truth for a truth. So on and so forth.

Still, they didn't talk all the time. Enemies, and all that; they had a habit of pissing each other off. It was when these silences came that Tony began to feel claustrophobic, the no-longer-white walls of his cell stifling. He'd had tried to sleep it off at first, but that hadn't worked for long. Without distractions, the night terrors had returned.

When he dreamt, he dreamt of Thor. His memories came back to terrorize him and he was on the streets of New York again, standing over his friend. The suit attacked and Tony watched from inside himself, helpless to stop it; Thor didn't fight back and there was blood, so much blood, and then a patriotic shield came from right field and knocked Tony flat off his feet. It sent him barreling towards the black asphalt.

But that blackness would change before he hit the ground and another dream would swallow him, bringing him into the void of the Chitauri all over again, until he blinked the fight and fall away and Thor was back on the ground in front of him. It would continue like this, Tony dropping in and out of two different nightmares, each getting progressively worse with each visit. The Avengers would fail the Earth in one and Tony would slaughter Thor in the other; Loki victorious would rise from the rubble of New York and his brother's corpse would lay beaten and battered in it.

It would end when Tony awoke in a cold sweat, suddenly on his feet and dizzy, tremors racking his body. His heart pounded beneath the arc reactor until he realized where he was again, alone in a cell with no one to console him through a panic attack. No JARVIS, no suits, and no phone to call Pepper with.

Too shaken to care what anyone thought, he would take refuge in a corner and try and calm down.

Eventually, he would just stop sleeping all together.

* * *

There were pregnant women that were more emotionally stable than Loki Laufeyson.

"You are the most insufferable man I have ever had the displeasure of knowing, Stark."

Well, he wasn't the first to feel that way.

Tony shrugged, continuing his sketches on the wall. He felt like he hadn't gotten far with understanding _how _the barrier worked to keep him in, but he did know that it had a breaking point. Like water's surface tension, if you pressed too hard and applied the right amount of force, the field might give way. In theory. Now he just needed to decide how much theoretical force was needed.

"I'm just saying. The horns are a bit much."

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"I do not expect you to comprehend the traditions and symbolism of Asgardian armor."

He began to pace again. For a while, it was tolerable, but soon the footsteps starting to drown everything else out. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

"Why are you always pacing?" he muttered, "Unless you're planning to burrow to China, it won't do you any good."

Loki gave him a tired look, his hands twitching with pent up frustration.

"Would you not pace in my position?" he asked, tilting his head towards him, "I have been left to _rot_ and wither until my history becomes nothing but legend and fable. I have been forgotten, stored away like an ancient relic, but I shall be damned to Hel if I allow dust to settle on my bones."

"But this is just a little time out for you, isn't it?" Tony pointed out. "You're immortal. They can't keep you in here forever. And if they could, you wouldn't let them."

"Ǽsir immortality is a rumor perpetrated by your ancestral tales. A natural death is possible. Not all perish by way of battles and blood." Loki paused, glancing at himself in a mirror. "But yes, you are right. I will not _let _them."

He straightened up, turning his full attention back to Tony. The engineer had gone back to writing on the walls, old equations for the Mark I suit spilling out just because he felt like it.

"I am merely surprised you do not pace, Stark. Your time is running out, like the sand in an hourglass. While my cell is my home, yours is merely a temporary abode."

Ah, there was the bait. This time, Tony decided to bite.

"What do you mean?"

Loki's smile curved his lips.

"Do you think they mean to keep you here? Odin would rather wipe the bloody memory of Thor's death from history than preserve his killer."

"It wasn't me. You don't even-"

Loki held up his hand. "It does not matter what you and I think. If the All-Father believes that his son is fallen, then your untimely grave is nigh. Unless..."

This couldn't be good.

"Oh no. No, no - you threw me out a _goddamn__ window_, Loki. You burned New York. You tried to take over the planet and you tried to kill _me _and my _friends _in the process."

Loki laughed. "You truly believe that I lost to the likes of _you_? You and your Avengers, your rag-tag team of misfits and rejects?" He took a seat in his chair, folding his fingers together. "Oh no, Man of Iron. I fell because I _wanted _to."

Tony's brow furrowed, anger and confusion clashing in his eyes.

"You're telling me you killed thousands of people and destroyed an entire city just because you felt like it?" he demanded, standing, "You amassed an army just because of some self-esteem issues and a Daddy complex? I know you were adopted, kid, but that doesn't mean Daddy doesn't love you."

"He is _not _my Father." The amusement faded from Loki in a flash of anger, his fist slamming on the arm of his chair. "Do not speak of what you do not know."

Oh great, now he was back to the pacing.

"There are more terrifying enemies in these cosmos than you could even begin to understand." Loki's jaw set, his words bit out through gritted teeth. "It was by their hand that I was torn from the black abyss; they proclaimed me an ally and I let them believe it, because they gave me the opportunity I was seeking."

Loki's eyes met with him, his gaze intimating and controlled. But in it, there was a fracture. Slightly watered eyes betrayed old hurt and a look of reckless desperation told of lasting, terrible pain. Tony cringed back to see it, almost as if he had been struck. He knew that look.

"My coming was a warning, Stark. An opportunity for your limited Midgardian minds to grasp the reality that you are not the only ones in your universe. Your heroes and super-men pale in comparison to the peoples that you have yet learned to reach. But when they come, and so they shall, you might have been given an inkling of a chance to stand against them. Thor's protection will not stave off all threats."

"You know, you could have just shot us a text if you cared so much." Tony snapped, deflecting his discomfort with dry humor. "Might have saved some time."

"But moreover, it was an opportunity for my return home." Loki didn't acknowledge Tony's interruption. "I have no wants for your planet and the filth that inhabits it. My sights shall always be set upon the throne of Asgard. Nowhere else."

To his credit, Tony managed to stay somewhat calm.

"And you couldn't have just magicked yourself back!?" Tony slammed his fist against the wall, angry. "Why the hell did we have to get caught in your crossfire? Look where it got you - in a fucking cell, buried away where no one gives a damn about anyone."

Loki snarled. "You wouldn't begin to understand. You have not been swallowed by the endless universe; you haven't been rejected, shamed, lied to, and betrayed as I have. Those who plucked me from the stars did not first call me friend; nay, I was the enemy, and only once I had proved useful did they decide that I would be better use as a tool than a prisoner."

And there it was. The reason Loki was like he was was hanging in the air between them, an unsaid secret between prisoners. It didn't matter how he danced around the details, masterful tongue or not, because Tony could see it in his eyes. He knew what torture was like. He knew how it changed you.

"They tortured you."

Loki turned sharply away, moving to create a larger gap between them. His back was to Tony.

"I'm capable of unimaginable patience, Stark, but you try it every time you open your mouth. Torture? The thought is laughable. Be merciful and cease projecting _your_ past onto me."

Now it was Tony's turn to look away. He shouldn't be surprised Loki knew, but it still felt like his privacy had been violated. It was no secret that he had been in Afghanistan. Hell, he'd called a press conference about it himself. But what exactly had happened in that cave? Only JARVIS and Pepper knew that, and it was damn well going to stay that way.

He sat back down, returning to his equations and refusing to take the bait. If Loki wanted the gruesome, intimate details, well, he could go fuck himself.

"My past was what made Iron Man." his voice was stone cold, "Did those allies of yours make you _you_?"

A long silence stretched between them, both men focused intently on something different than the other. Invisible sparks were flying, the tension in the air palpable. But Loki took a patient breath to dispel this, closing his eyes.

"...I am what I am destined to be. I shall never _not _be, no matter the cost."

No matter what that turns you into, Tony translated.

Loki turned back around to face him, deceptively calm. "But let us speak on more pleasant matters. I believe I had a proposal for you before you derailed the conversation."

Tony groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Look, Hamlet-"

Then the dungeon's doors swung open, bringing their conversation to an abrupt halt. Thor's warrior-friends entered, the three of them striding forward like they owned the place. Loki offered them a pleasant, deceitful smile as they approached, but none of them even so much as glanced towards him. The one with the rather large beard carried chains.

"It did not take you long, Lady Sif, to come seeking communal visitation now that my Brother is no longer an option to you." Loki's tone was sweet as he mocked the woman, and it made Tony's stomach turn in distaste.

Sif ignored him entirely. The blond one shot him a glare.

"You speak of him without love, Loki, when all he ever offered you was his heart."

"I loved Thor more dearly than any of you." he snapped in response, eyes narrowing, "It was you who failed him, not I. Where were you when he took his final breaths, Fandral? Feasting in the glorious halls of Asgard? Why, if you loved him as dearly as you claim-"

"Enough."

All eyes were drawn to the entrance, where another visitor stood. Loki stiffened by fractions and Tony's brow furrowed. It was the woman he'd seen here some nights ago. Whatever that meant couldn't bode well for him.

"All-Mother." Sif and friends bowed, respectful.

Loki's Mom. _Thor's _Mom. Yeah, he was fucked. Royally.

"It is time for your trial, son of Howard." the Queen addressed him simply, "I ask you come in peace, for your own sake. Do not make this any worse than it already is... Volstagg, if you please."

Loki chuckled as he sat down in his chair, lounging back to watch the event.

"Do not let my Mother's words deceive you, Stark. Only those meant for the executioner's block are ever brought out in those shackles. Whatever 'trial' you may face is a mere farce."

All color drained from Tony's face. The one with his chains, Volstagg, stepped through the barrier and approached him. Out of mere habit, he took a step back, already on edge and defensive.

_"Submit, Stark." _Tony pressed his palm to the side of his head in shock, almost having completely forgotten that his ear-piece was still lodged in place. _"All will be well, so long as you heed my words."_

He looked up to see Loki in his cell, who appeared to be very deeply enthralled in a book. Asshole. Though a good month or so had given him a better outlook on the deranged man that had attacked New York, he still didn't trust him as far as he could throw him. There was no reason that Loki would want to help him, and this wasn't just a game for shits and giggles. Loki didn't waste his time unless there was a prize at the end of the tunnel.

Only because he didn't have any other choice, Tony relented. He straightened up and offered out his wrists, jaw set. There would have to be another time to try and figure out that asshole's motives, preferably when he wasn't up on the chopping block.

"You know, usually, you'd have to buy me dinner first." He quipped, testing the strength of the chains when they secured.

Much to his surprise, both Volstagg and the blond one laughed. For facing the man they thought killed their friend, they were oddly well-natured about it. Sif didn't seem to share their temperament, however, and hit her nearest companion for his response.

"I can see why Thor found comfort in your company, Howardson." Volstagg said quietly, a smile under his Lord of the Rings beard, "It is a shame we meet under such grim circumstances."

"It's Tony." he offered, "And I didn't kill Thor."

"Would it be so." He sighed, clapping Tony on the shoulder. "Let us depart. The All-Father awaits."


	3. Chapter 3

Tony could admit he had never seen anything like Asgard's throne room before in his life. If people thought he was gaudy, what with his glitz and glamor and shiny metal suits, he'd have to remember to point them in this direction.

Massive and ancient stone columns lined the spacious hall, adorned with detailed artwork and holding up an arching ceiling that seemed to reach up miles above their heads. Glass windows reached nearly as high, giving brief glimpses of the glimmering city beyond the palace walls. From what Tony could make of it, it was a clash of old tradition and the splendor of technology. It was a tech lover's wet dream.

Tony reminded himself to behave, because JARVIS wasn't in his ear to do it for him.

Volstaag and Fandral escorted him down the golden hall, holding the chains that attached to Tony's waist in their grip. Though Tony wasn't much of a physical threat without a suit, they'd quite effectively restrained him; chains attached to cuffs on his wrists and ankles, as well as an uncomfortable collar around his neck. The chain hanging from it was bouncing carelessly off his arc reactor and he dropped his hands lower to get rid of the slack.

When they reached the throne, Tony tried for disinterest when he looked up. Others were bowing around him but he just stared, unimpressed and stressed, deciding that he wasn't going to kiss any ass.

The throne gilded gold and ridiculously large, making the old, weathered King that sat on its seat look miniscule in comparison. Everything about the scene was ludicrous, from the golden scepter to the ugly horned-winged helm the King wore. But the eye patch - now that was funny. One corner of his lips twitched into a restrained smile. When had he missed the eye patch memo? Fury had obviously gotten it.

"Anthony Stark, son of Howard Stark." Odin addressed him in a cold voice of a King, betraying no emotion. It made Tony stiffen a bit, but he did his best to remain relaxed. He didn't know how he was going to get out of this, but he was going to. He had to. "You stand charged with the crime of murder."

"That's what they tell me."

Quite suddenly there was a blade at his throat, an angry woman holding the hilt of the weapon. Sif really didn't seem to like him in the slightest.

"You will speak to the All-Father with respect, Prisoner." she hissed.

"You're pretty when you're angry." Tony complimented, the blade now pressing against his jugular just a _bit _too hard.

"Enough."

At Odin's word, Sif's blade fell. Nothing changed in her expression as she fell back to the sidelines, but Tony could relax. Shoulders easing a bit, he looked back to Odin. Order returned to the court.

"Anthony Stark, there was a time when my son once spoke of you as a friend. You stood alongside him as a protector of your world." The King stood from his throne, his staff standing tall and glinting off the light, "It is to my great displeasure that my son's judgment in you was faulty. What have you to say in this?"

"He'd probably say that I didn't do it." He took a step forward, but his two guard pulled him back into place. "He'd tell you, and I'm sorry that I don't speak Shakespeare, to go piss off and find out who actually killed him."

"You stand before me with his blood still beneath your nails!" Odin thundered, hammering the end of his staff to the floor to bring silence to the upset rabble Tony's words had brought. "Need you see the proof you already know? So be it."

A light emitted from the ceiling, projecting the damning evidence to all in the court. Instinctively, Tony turned from it, both to preserve his sanity and control his anxiety. He already knew what it was. It was that goddamn video of him in the suit, flying in the sky, and repulsor-blasting Thor out of the air. Catching up to him and landing on him, beating him, relentless...

He was too busy trying to catch his breath to see that the suit's eyes had gone green just seconds before the assault.

"You cannot even look upon you own guilt."

The hologram-magic flickered and died out, leaving angry silence in its wake. Tony forced himself to open his eyes and straighten up, his clammy hands balling into fists.

"That is not _me._" he insisted through gritted teeth, "Thor was my friend."

"Is that not your armor?"

"It is, but-"

Odin returned to his throne, his features betraying a looked of exhaustion. Grief was heavy on the All-Father's shoulders.

"Then you admit your guilt."

At the King's side, Frigga wrung her hands. Shaken in the sight of Thor's death, she was pale, but her eyes were on Tony. She was waiting for something.

_"Demand a trail by worth."_

This time, Tony managed not to jump as Loki hijacked his comms. Again.

"If you have no defense to speak of, Anthony Stark, you shall be found guilty and sentenced." The King decided.

Tony blanched, lips forming words that didn't come out. His quick wit wasn't going to save him this time. He shouldn't - _couldn't _trust Loki. The guy a grade-A psychopath, and Tony would be stupid to put himself in his debt. There was a reason Asgard had thrown their youngest Prince in the trash like yesterday's news.

_"Demand a trial by worth." _Loki insisted again, each syllable spoken with precision. _"Lest you be fond of death's sweet embrace."_

Frigga's eyes still were on him, waiting. Tony looked to her in his panic, and he'd be damned if he hadn't seen her inch her head to nod.

Well, here went nothing.

"Trial by worth."

The hall went as silent as the grave. Odin's single eye glared, full of anger and suspicion. Frigga shifted in discomfort, but she seemed to be relieved. Tony squared his shoulders and stood tall.

"I want a trial by worth."

Again, Odin stood. This time, he was truly furious.

"And by what means would you declare a test of your _worth_?" he spat the last word, very close to trembling, "You, who felled the Prince of Asgard? My son?!"

_"If you can lift Mjölnir, you couldn't have possibly killed Thor. It would not yield to the murderer of its former Master." _Loki was feeding him the lines like a teleprompter.

I can't wield it, he wanted to say, but he had to be silent. This ear-piece was his last trick up his sleeve.

This wasn't going to work. Whether or not he had killed Thor, his moral worth was always in question. He knew he couldn't lift it. None of the other Avengers could, either. They'd all tried one night, drunk off their asses, and even Steve had only got it about an inch off the ground. Thor had laughed and called their dedication admirable when they all went for a second round.

"The hammer. Thor's hammer." There was nothing to lose. "If I can lift it, I couldn't have possibly killed him."

The tension in the room could have been sliced with a dagger. No one moved. No one dared. As the King of Asgard seethed in anger at the sheer audacity of Tony's request, everyone watched.

"All-Father." Frigga broke the silence, stepping forward towards her King. "Let him have his trial. The throne of Asgard shall be known for justice, not for revenge."

Her hand rested on her husband's shoulder and his anger faded. Tony didn't know what to think. Was she in on this? He didn't put it past Loki to scheme, but with his _Mom_? Asgard's royal family was more fucked up than he had first thought, and the Queen had a damn good poker face.

"So be it." The King stepped down from his throne, approaching Tony. "In accordance with my law, Anthony Stark, four witnesses shall see to this trial. Two of my choice, two of yours." He stopped a few paces away from him, his one eye boring in Tony's soul. "If you succeed, they will be honor-bound to attest to your victory. But when you fail, you shall be struck down where you stand."

Sif smiled from the sidelines and Tony had the very unsettling urge to kick her in the shins. She stepped forward and knelt, hand over her heart.

"Allow me the honor of being your witness, All Father." she requested, bowing, "It is my duty, as Thor's friend and shield-sister."

The King nodded. "And it is your blade that shall fell him if he fails, Lady Sif. Fandral, you shall accompany her."

The blond man stepped forward, bowing as Sif rose to her feet. She clapped him on the shoulder, but his eyes were on Tony. He seemed perplexed, as if trying to sort out a puzzle.

_"Call upon me, Tony Stark, and I swear by the Nine that you shall survive this day."_

Tony was pale, Loki's words echoing in his ears. What choice did he have? Loki was his enemy, no doubt, but he was one of three people who believe he might be innocent. It was either him or someone who was going to kill him anyway. At least if Loki turned on him it might be quick...

"Call upon your witnesses, Howardson."

Tony swallowed. He prepared himself for the reactions and, gathering what little common sense he had left, he made his decision. He could already see the Trickster's evil grin, miles below the throne room.

"The All-Mother. Thor's Mom. Frigga? Freya? Sorry, I'm not up to date on my Norse myths." Then, he looked straight into Odin's good eye. "And Loki."

* * *

Tony was sure Loki had never smiled so much in his life. The Warriors Three were extremely unhappy by both his choices and Sif had yelled quite a number of protests, but Frigga had stayed her arguments. She wanted to come, she said, to see the man who killed her son face justice. As for Loki, it would do no harm to allow him an hour of supervised and shackled travel. Give him an opportunity to prove he still felt loyalty to the throne.

One field trip and a Bifrost beam later, the five of them stood in the middle of New York.

It took about five seconds for the general population to process the big scary energy beam from the sky and the Asgardians it brought. When they started screaming and scrambling away, Tony sighed. Loki smiled like the madman he was, reveling in the chaos his mere presence brought. It hadn't been so long since his last visit, and, well, that hadn't gone so well.

A moment or two later the most musical, magical sound played in Tony's ear. Static, at first, and then a soft hum and ping and-

_"Sir, welcome back." _JARVIS greeted.

Much to his credit, Tony managed not to cry.

_"Before you respond, Sir, please be aware that Protocol 'Rouge' has been implemented. Ms. Pepper Potts is now my acting administrator and my Iron Man capabilities have been disabled. Upon your arrival, a message was dispatched to Ms. Potts, Avengers HQ, and SHEILD HQ containing your approximate location. I apologize for any inconvenience."_

Two-timing, double-crossing AI bastard. He'd been programmed far too well. But for now, Tony would just have to sit quiet and listen to anything JARVIS felt was important to tell him, because he didn't want to risk his communicator being found out. It was far more useful now than it had been before.

_"Sir, I am receiving information that Loki Laufeyson is within your immediate vicinity, as well as three other unidentified Asgardians. Are you in danger?"_

Tony glanced around at the streets, where New Yorkers were continuing to scramble as fast as they could. Some had decided to stick around with their phones held out before them, little red lights flashing as they recorded. If anyone was streaming live, Tony was damn sure JARVIS had his robotic eye on him already.

_"You appear to be in a hostile situation. Can you confirm?"_

He folded his hands in front of him and gave a little thumbs up, which was inconspicuous enough.

_"Hostile situation confirmed, Sir. A distress message has been dispatched to Ms. Potts."_

Sif pushed Tony forward with a shove right between his shoulder blades, her blade held ready in her other hand. He managed not to stumble.

"To Mjölnir, prisoner. Let your worth be determined."

It wasn't far from here. Just around the corner, on the edge of the sidewalk. It was an entirely normal place, made important only by the evidence of a tragedy. Tony's stomach turned.

Thor had deserved more. If he had to go out, he should have gone out with thunder and lighting and a grand speech, and he should have taken out his killer in the processes. Something like that. Assault on a street corner just didn't fit. Thor was so much better than all that.

When they rounded the corner, they were faced with something much grander than they had anticipated. Mjölnir, which sat in an untouched concrete crater, had been surrounded by candles, flowers, photographs, and all types of offerings. This uninspiring street had become an extraordinary memorial, where the people who had loved Thor had left behind remembrances and mementos. There were cards and drawings that children had left behind, pictures of the Asgardian with lucky civilians tucked in among all the gifts. Street performers lingered around the edge, displaying their art for the man who had protected them all. A few of the younger onlookers dawned red capes.

Tony took a deep breath, touched by the display. Thor would have loved it. He was always a sap.

"Sentiment. Lovely. Though I am endlessly touched by this display, I do believe we have a charge to be here." Loki mocked, breaking their silence. "Take heed that my visage strikes fear into the very soul of these Midgardians. Their protectors and armies will be here in short moments, their speed twice-encouraged by Stark's re-arrival."

Sif glared at him.

"You are a witness here, Loki, and a silent one. If this is too great of a burden for you to carry, I shall happily relieve you of your tongue."

Loki's smile was sickly sweet. "Ah, Lady Sif, you are welcome to it. So long as you use your tongue to silence mine own."

Tony almost laughed. Innuendos were his game, surely not Loki's. Fandral had to hold Sif back as she jumped forward to strike, but the offending God didn't even cringe. He was laughing, mischievous joy written across his face.

At this sudden scuffle, people's attentions were drawn. Immediately, this street cleared out like the last, and Tony's reality returned to him. He still had a hammer to lift.

Hell. How was he going to get out of this?

_"Sir, ETA for Captain Rogers is in two minutes. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton are en route."_

Great. Wonderful. Three Avengers were going to be breathing down his neck with the Asgardians, minus Loki. Six on two? Not great odds without a suit.

"Let us continue, Lady Sif." Frigga urged, once the Warrior had been separated her from her son.

If he made it long enough to face those odds, at least.

The woman nodded, stepping forward and grabbing Tony by his forearm. Her grip was like steel as she pulled him forward, maneuvering through the memorial to plant him directly in front of Mjölnir

"Prove your worth, Howardson." Sif demanded, letting his arm go. "Or admit to your guilt."

"It's Tony."

She pressed him down with a strong hand, her other making his hand grip the shaft of the weapon. Apparently, patience wasn't one of her virtues.

"Raise the hammer, if you are worthy."

"Why have you said nothing, Mother?" Behind them, Loki stood with Frigga, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. His eyebrows moved into false concern. "I truly question your loyalty to the throne. Have you no love for Asgard?"

The Queen gave a thin-lipped smile.

"Asgard has my love, Loki. But my loyalty will always be to my family."

Tony heard Fandral try to silence Loki, but then there was the sound of chains hitting asphalt and the Asgardian cursed. Blades were drawn and Tony dived out of the way, Sif's blade cleanly slicing off a few hairs of his head. She struck again in a flurry and he managed to deflect, eyes wide.

"You die here!"

But then there was a figure of green behind her and she cried out, her blade clattering to the ground as she grabbed for her ribs. Loki's hand twisted and she contorted oddly, gasping; he slid his dagger from her side and she crumpled to the ground like paper.

"It is mere curiosity Stark, but _can_ you lift it?"

Green flames leapt up about the duo in a circle, blocking them from view of the city. The memorial began to burn and Tony coughed, smoke filling his lungs. He shook his head as he stood, shielding his face with his forearm.

"I thought not." Loki smiled, "We are too much alike."

A cold hand gripped his forearm and magic encased them both, the prisoners escaping in a burst of green light. Tony thought he heard Steve calling out somewhere in the distance, but he was gone by the time Captain America's shield cut through the air where he had been standing.


	4. Chapter 4

A mouthful of sand was not the best way to end an escape attempt.

An escape success, Tony reminded himself, blinking and rubbing at his eyes. Who had escaped three Asgardians and some incoming Avengers? Tony fucking Stark, that's who.

The whirlwind of sand settled as the pair did, green magic whipping away into the early morning air. Loki stood wiping fresh blood off his dagger, seeming completely uninterested in the world around him. It was as if they hadn't just escaped a war-zone-to-be. Green eyes lazily drifted down to Tony as he slipped the blade into his waistband, entirely unimpressed.

"Teleportation is hardly cause for collapse, Stark."

Tony blinked, finally realizing his predicament. He was on the ground in the beach sand, kneeling next to Loki, almost exactly eye level with the magician's- Tony shot up to his feet in one quick movement, absolutely _not _embarrassed, and busied himself with brushing the sand off his knees.

"Sorry if I'm not used to Apparating, you creepy son of a bitch."

Loki rolled his eyes, striding away from the engineer. It was dawn wherever they were, and the sun cast long shadows onto them and into the ocean. Loki turned pensive as he looked out over the waters, stopping at the edge of the sand. The waves lapped at his feet.

The beach was only a sliver of land between a black cliff face and the ocean, ending when the rocks jutted out into and over the water. They were on the west coast, judging by the fact that the ocean didn't rise over the water's horizon. For the moment, Tony wouldn't worry over where they were or why; he wanted to enjoy his first moment of freedom.

He sat down in the sand of and leaned back on his hands, pushing the rest of the world out of his mind. By focusing on the ocean breeze carrying up the salt-water mist, the slight tremble of anxiety and adrenaline ebbed away with the waves. It wouldn't be long until fatigue set in, he mused, and maybe it would finally put him to sleep.

When the slight chill in the air began to bite through the thin layers of his undersuit, he opened his eyes. Loki was still standing at the water, as still as stone, and the shadows of the morning were beginning to shrink.

"JARVIS?"

No response from the AI. Tony frowned at stood up, running his fingers through his hair. Teleportation or not, there shouldn't be any connection problems. As long as they were on Earth.

"Hey, where are we?"

Loki stiffened as he was brought out of his thoughts, turning his head only a fraction to give Tony his attention.

"Have you been away from home so long?"

Tony blinked. He spun sharply around to face the cliffs and, sure enough, his mansion was perched on the top of them. The curved, sleek architecture was bright with morning's light, as if glad to see its master home.

"How did you know where I live?" He demanded, uneasy.

Loki gave a thoughtful hum, slowly turning his focus away from the waters before him.

"I did not come to Earth blind of its champions, Stark." He walked by him, heading towards a staircase carved into the cliff face. Tony might have protested to see Loki intent upon making himself at home, but he was just as eager to get inside as the troublemaker was.

"I could use a shower." Tony moved to follow him up the path.

"And a shave." Loki responded dryly.

* * *

Two hours, one secret entrance and a bathroom visit later, Tony Stark had finally rebooted JARVIS and made his home right again. SHIELD and a number of branches of the United States government had used his apparent turn to the dark side as an excuse to execute a search warrant on his house, but Pepper, bless her heart and soul, had managed to give them the run around. She took advantage of a technicality that classified his workshop as a separate entity than his personal living space; the workshop was an extension of the Stark Industries laboratories, or some bullshit, and they couldn't get a search warrant for a company he wasn't technically CEO of.

Tony decided he was going to kiss her the next time he saw her, consequences be damned.

The front of his home was decorated in shiny yellow police tape, with a sleeping police detail in his driveway. The situation had almost gone lethal when they'd come across it, but Loki had been talked down from murdering sleeping men. After that, all it took was one deactivated security system and a side door; they were successfully inside and home free.

Down in the workshop, Tony toweled his damp hair as he watched his work unfold, lights flickering on from above. The suit displays lit up like a Christmas tree and brought a surge of warmth to his chest.

_"Welcome home, Sir. I apologize for my delay."_

"No problem, buddy. It's good to be back."

He slung his damp towel over the back of a chair, going to inspect his suits. The Mark XVII, fondly christened "Heartbreaker," was on the main display, ready for action. All Tony had been doing since New York was building; he'd only been at Avengers HQ for a charity event. His patrol with Thor had just been for kicks.

Hand on the suit's over-sized heart, Tony swallowed. With things settled around him, everything was creeping back into his mind. He had lost a friend - no, he had lost all his friends. They had found him guilty before even giving him the benefit of the doubt.

On one hand, Tony wasn't surprised. They were all warriors. Trained to kill. Trained to distrust everyone but themselves.

But on the other hand, _fuck all of them_. After all they had been through, after all the things they had seen and fought, they'd thrown him under a bus at the first chance. No questions asked. Thor was dead and it looked like Tony did it - that must be truth, right? Nothing else could have possibly happened.

They had never trusted him.

Even Bruce hadn't stood on his side.

When Loki came down in the workshop, he would find Tony at the workbench, elbows-deep in Heartbreaker, tinkering about and rewiring.

_"Sir, I trust you realize that you have a internationally known criminal as your house guest."_

"I assure you, computer, I have been accused of far worse."

Loki all but glided over to Tony, standing on the opposite side of the table as he looked over the work being done on this suit. His dark hair was still damp from the shower, but he had found a change of clothes. Leather clothes and worn golden armor ornamented the Trickster, somehow familiar and yet not the same as the last time Tony had seen him. This get up was meant for someone who didn't want to be seen. He'd meant to call attention to himself in New York, what with the helm and the cape. Now he aimed for subtlety, wanting an ease to glide from one shadow to the next.

He looked damn good, too. Tony wouldn't admit it out loud, but Thor's little brother definitely had game in the looks department. The Heartbreaker looked better, he decided, and he looked back to his work.

"This is not the device I saw you last in." A pale hand ran across the cold metal of Heartbreaker's arm.

"Brilliant, Sherlock." Tony pulled out of the suit, grease stains up his hands and in between his fingers. He flashed a smile towards Loki. "If you think the last one knocked you off your feet, you'll be blown away by this baby."

Loki's brow arched skeptically, eyes surveying the entirety of the suit in one quick sweep.

"How many have you made since that day?"

Damn, he was sharp. Tony dived back into working on the suit, which was an open-heart surgery with hydrolic fluid instead of blood.

"This is Mark Seventeen." he muttered, "I kicked your ass in Mark Seven."

_"Sir."_

Tony looked up, then waved his free hand in dismissal.

"Reclassify Loki as a non-hostile for me, buddy, but keep the guns at the ready. No licenses to kill, understand?"

_"As you wish. Reclassification of Loki Laufeyson is complete."_

Loki gave the ceiling an unimpressed look, but said nothing on his new categorization.

"Where are the Avengers, computer?"

_"Sir?"_

Tony nodded. "Tell him."

_"ETA for Steve Rogers and Agents Barton and Romanoff is thirty-three minutes. And, please, call me JARVIS."_

DUM-E then rolled up with a bottle of scotch in his claw, having emerged from the other side of the workshop to get it. Tony greeted him with a smile meant for an old friend, clapping him on the center mechanism as he lifted the drink away.

"You are my best friend in the world right now. I would never donate you to a city college, no I wouldn't..." The robot rolled away with a pleased whir. "And you, Jailhouse Rock, stop gawking at the suit. It makes him uncomfortable." Cranking a wrench inside the metal chest, Tony smiled. "Aaaaand there. Perfect. JARVIS, stitch him up and get him ready."

_"Sir." _Mechanical arms descended from the ceiling, moving to work at Tony's command.

Loki rolled his eyes, folding his hands behind his back. Tony grabbed a rag and started to wipe off the grease, taking the bottle of scotch with him as he went to his bar fridge. He withdrew two glasses and began to pour, very much anticipating the first taste of alcohol he'd had in months. He offered one to Loki.

"To prison escapes."

Loki looked at the glass with suspicion first, before carefully taking it in his long fingers. He continued to examine the drink, as if convinced Tony might have tampered with it.

"It isn't poisoned." Tony took a drink of his own, not waiting for his toast to be returned, and went to his computer hub.

"Hn." Loki followed him, closing their distance with a few long paces. He leaned against the desk, very nearly sitting on top of it, and took a sip of the drink Tony had given him. "Sif and Fandral were escorted back to Asgard by the Queen."

Tony drank with him, leaning back in his chair.

"And no one's going to come seeking vengeance for the glory of their ancestors?"

"I think not." Amusement tugged at Loki's lips as he crossed his arms over his chest, swirling his drink in his glass. He watched Tony with idle interest. "While the healers fret and worry over cursed and festering wounds, Mother will play politics with your leaders."

"Has she been in on this the whole time, then? Or does she fall on the 'do not stab' list?"

Loki's lips curved in amusement.

"A mother would do anything to bring her son back into her arms, given the opportunity."

"_The Mark XVII is ready, sir."_

Tony smiled, a bit more excited than he should be, and stood.

"Sorry, you're on your own when it comes to armor. They don't come in Martian sizes, unfortunately."

Loki rolled his eyes, but didn't both to threaten him with an unpleasant death for the insult. Tony stepped up on the short dais that was his workshop's centerpiece, JARVIS' mechanical arms descending from the ceiling around him.

"Surely you jest. I would never encase myself in your metal men, Anthony."

Tony frowned. Being on a first name basis with the guy who tried to kill him half a year ago really hadn't been on his bucket list.

Heartbreaker would assemble around him, Loki's eyes never leaving the mechanic as it did so. To him this was a curiosity; a strange ritual that he now had the rare opportunity to see. For some reason, Tony felt naked under the gaze.

When the face mask lowered, a sense of peace settled over Iron Man. With a deep breath and a sigh of relief, he felt his anxiety slowly ease its grip on his heart. The heads-up-display flickered to life and illuminated his face with a familiar blue wash; JARVIS checked in, bringing a tugging smirk to Tony's lips.

_"Sir, the Mark XVII is at 100% functionality and fully up to date."_

He was back. Iron Man was back.

_"We have an intruder."_

Tony blinked, reading the red-light information that popped up on the HUD. "Who?"

_"I am uncertain, but Ms. Potts' passkey was used to gain entrance at the main door."_

And like a scene out of a bad action movie, there was a loud crash as a red-headed assassin dropped from the ceiling vent above Tony's head. He had just enough time to move out of the way and for the face-place to snap back down, but it didn't matter. A jet of green light had blasted her off her course, a wicked smile on Loki's lips.

Natasha managed to recover mid-air, flipping to land crouched on the ground. A nasty burn now bloomed on her right hip, a courteous welcoming gift from Loki, and it began to ooze black liquid. Tony cringed, shooting a glare towards the sorcerer.

"Don't kill her."

Loki shrugged. Natasha stood and pulled both her guns on them in one fluid motion, holding them steady despite her wound. Her skin was already turning a worrisome shade of green.

"First Thor and now this?!" she demanded, staring down her sights at Tony.

"It's nice to see you too, Natasha." Tony tried for nonchalant, "Now just put the gun down..."

Her eyes narrowed and she took a shot, which bounced carelessly off his breastplate. He raised a ready-repulsor in response, hoping to stay her hand, but then there was a crash of shattering glass and Loki shoved him out of the way of an incoming shield. There was a flash of green, but the Captain dodged it, and Loki caught an arrow aimed straight at his head.

"Barton." he greeted with a grin, "A pleasure."

Clint cursed something ungodly and Tony grabbed Steve's shield from where it had embedded itself in the wall, using it to block a flurry of bullets Natasha began to unload on him. Each ricochet was a lethal friendly fire risk, and both Loki and Clint had to take cover.

_"Sir, incoming Captain America at 3 o'clock."_

Tony blasted himself a few feet off the ground to avoid an angry soldier that had been barreling his way, the shield still in his hands.

"All right, everyone. Just calm down."

But then there were six Lokis and everyone was on the ground, a variety of knees in backs and daggers held against mortal necks. The echoing laughter from the lot of them was just a tad overkill, creepy enough to bring goosebumps.

"If your lives are of any consequence to you, Avengers, I recommend you surrender." Loki emerged from the other side of the workshop, scotch in hand.

This was new. The last time Tony had seen Loki's duplicates, they'd been a flickering four corralling a crowd in and not a completely solid half dozen restraining career killers. The identical grins the lot of them wore were nightmare inducing.

"Show off." Tony grunted. It was fascinating, horror movie vibe aside.

His feet found the ground again and he let the shield drop next to Steve, who was glaring death at Iron Man. Loki looked far too pleased with himself, green eyes flickering from one victim to the next.

"Here we are." He commented softly, a wave of his hand signaling his band of duplicates to bring the trio to their feet. "Earth's mightiest heroes." And then he laughed.

Tony's face plate snapped back and he took a deep breath, shaking his head. Really, the last time he'd gotten that look from Steve he'd been prodding Banner with a screwdriver to try and get him to Hulk out.

"Ignore him," he advised, giving a dismissive hand wave in Loki's direction, "He's just a little excited to be out of his cell."

Steve wrestled against the two Lokis holding him, but the dagger dug enough into skin to keep him from throwing them off that very moment.

"Stark, I swear to God-"

"You know what, Steve? I've had my fill of Gods, lately." Tony snapped, rounding on him. "I've also had enough of being wrongly imprisoned. Thanks to you, I've been stuck on _another planet _wasting away in a cell that didn't even have enough goddamn decency to provide wifi, while Thor's killer is still going about his merry way."

"Still trying to blame your mistakes on someone else, huh?"

A rightly timed elbow, kick, and punch threw Captain America's restraining party onto the ground and he charged at Iron Man, teeth bared. Tony caught his hands and the metal of his gloves groaned beneath Steve's, the pair posed with stances straining to push the other back. They were like bulls with horns interlocked, pressing to gain dominance.

"I know men worth ten of you." Steve growled, "Men who don't turn on friends and fraternize with the enemy. You are _nothing_, Stark, _do you hear me?!_"

A surge of anger flowed through Tony and he threw Steve against the far wall, his expression twisted in rage and grief. Screw Howard for helping bring wimpy little Steve Rogers out of the dark. An iron grip barred Steve against the wall and the cement began to give way under the pressure, metal fingers wrapping around the soldier's neck.

"Going to kill me, now?" Steve hissed, grabbing Tony's wrist with a crushing grip.

"While this is all very entertaining, I do believe it's time for this drama to come to a close."

Loki was dangerously close, then, only a breath away from Tony's face. Before there was time to react, numbness washed over him like a wave. Loki was whispering something in his ear in a language he didn't know, two fingers pressed to his temple, and close enough that Tony found himself lost in the sensation of cool breath on his neck. He was fading fast, drunk off the scent of leather and earth, while _something_ began to seep into his very bones and take hold. It was like molten lava running through his veins, a touch of ice rushing behind it to chase the burn away; something completely otherworldly and a heartbeat away from being lethal.

By the time Tony realized he had been spellbound, it was far too late. Green magic had swirled into his irises, drowning everything else out, and Loki snapped his fingers.

His hand moved of its own accord, releasing a wide-eyed Steve Rogers. Trapped inside his body all over again, panic gripped his soul. Screaming was impossible; no words escaped his mouth and no movement bent to his will. Tony was a puppet, a goddamn Pinocchio dancing on Loki's strings.

"Allow me to demonstrate a simple possession." Loki introduced, giving a flourishing hand movement towards Iron Man. "This, dear mortals, is what turned your ally into your greatest enemy. I'm sure you're familiar with the process, Barton. No need to gawk."

Not-Tony fired a repulsor blast just inches away from Natasha's head, leaving singed red hair behind. Loki gestured her way and he was walking, taking off his helmet and letting it fall to the ground. Natasha watched in horror as Tony reached for her holster, taking the gun from her hip and loading the chamber. Loki's duplicates were gone, but she didn't seem to notice; Loki's magic had been redirected into Tony, who now kept her attention captive.

"I could kill you all without raising a finger." Loki pushed the boundaries of Steve's shock and Tony raised a gun to the assassin's head, just a word away from blasting her brains all over the wall. "Or I could kill him."

Then the barrel was against his temple and the room was as silent as the grave. When his point was made abundantly clear, Loki relieved them of their stress.

"Put the gun down, Stark."

Tony obeyed, dropping the weapon to the floor. It clattered at his feet and he scooped his helmet back up, righting it into place.

"He was a puppet then, as he is now." Loki pressed his point home, striding over towards his new toy. "If you still fail to believe this, assess your video footage." He snapped his fingers and the suit's face-plate snapped down, the eyes glowing a startling green instead of white. "The suit and the man are one."

The silence spread on for ages, horrified Avengers looking on the form of their forsaken ally. Within himself, Tony was fighting through the anxiety to witness this, but his bitterness faded only in fractions. What was done was done - he had experienced betrayal and now it was over, and he bore the scars to prove it.

Loki whispered a foreign word and the magic vanished, leaving Iron Man to collapse to his knees. Gasping for breath within the suit, Tony wrestled the helmet off and let it roll to the ground, feeling raw and empty inside. As blue swam back into his watering eyes he managed to gather himself, slowly rising. He thought he might be glad to see guilt on the faces of his friends, but it just felt like a kick to the stomach.

"Furthermore, the crime you accused him of committing did not take place." Loki didn't care that the ice was thin. He walked straight up to Steve Rogers and went toe-to-toe with him, a challenge in his green eyes. "Bring me the body of Odinson and I will reveal to you the truth in this grand lie."

"How do we know it wasn't you?" Hawkeye stood to his right, arrow ready and raised.

Loki rolled his eyes, giving Clint a scathing look.

"I assure you, all of Asgard will confirm that I was safely stowed away in their dungeons during the time of these events. I was entirely incapable of meddling in your menial affairs." Green eyes slitted into warning. "And were I to kill Thor, I would have done so with my bare hands."

"Thor's body burned." Steve reported, his voice flat. "There's nothing to show you, even if we wanted to."

It was Steve's turn to receive Loki's glare.

"Lies do not become you, Captain. Do remember who you speak to." His attention turned to Natasha, who stood in still silence where she stood. "What of you, Romanoff? You know SHIELD's most intimate secrets. The wool is thick over Odin's eye, but I am not so blind. Tell me they have not stolen away with the body of my brother. "

Her lips pursed into a line. "It is Thor's body. I saw it myself."

"You saw the lie_. _The illusion."

He stepped away from Steve. In a blink of an eye, Thor's godly hand landed on Tony's shoulder, clapping him in a friendly gesture. Loki had seamlessly taken on the form of their dearly departed, not a hair on his head amiss or a falseness to his smile.

"Comrades! Shield-brethren! Let us not waste the day in discord; we shall feast in the halls of Asgard, partaking in the spoils of glory." He spoke in the same voice, with the same thundering enthusiasm of the man they had known. "We shall take discourse until the earliest light of morn, when the mead has made our tongues free and our footsteps unguided."

Green flashed in the room and Loki had retaken his own form, his past amusement replaced by a grim look.

"Need you any more persuasion?"

Steve was as pale as death. Tony almost felt bad for him. Captain America was as God-fearing as they came, with a religion that had been shaken one too many times in this past year. Seeing the dead reborn couldn't be doing any good for his psyche. It was added insult to injury for the team leader to realize that he had turned against one of his own.

Natasha and Clint were far more put together, now standing side by side. Tony looked to them and Clint averted his gaze, embarrassed. They'd been in similar boats, but one had gotten friends in a time of need and the other hadn't.

"...Two days." Natasha said, breaking the uneasy silence, "We'll be back with the body in two days."

The assassins took their leave, abandoning Steve.

"Tony-"

Tony shook his head, holding a hand up.

"Not now, Steve."

"I'm sorry-"

"Leave." The word came out quick and harsh, but Tony refused to feel bad about it. After all he had been through, Captain America deserved a lot more than a few short words.

Admitting defeat, Steve would retreat up the stairs. Tony watched him go, conflicted, but forced it away. Loki's eyes remained on him as he went to the dais to get out of the suit, feeling so very tired.

"Now the true battle begins, Stark." Loki thought, picking up his drink from the table and emptying the glass. "Take haste in finding your true allies."


	5. Chapter 5

Tony Stark was used to betrayal.

It was just a fact of life. It had started when Obadiah had hired the Ten Rings to kill him, but it hadn't ended when the Iron Monger had fallen into the oversized arc reactor. The scars that had been left behind had hardened Tony's heart against the world. He hadn't trusted easily to begin with, but now it was even harder to fall into his good graces. It took more than a smile and a smart mouth. It took blood and sacrifice, with a mind that could impress a genius.

That was why it hurt so damn much when the people he loved turned on him.

For as long as he could remember, he had been on his own. He preferred that. Functioning well with other people had always been a challenge because he couldn't understand them. Tony understood tech, because tech didn't change. He understood himself. But other people? People were _weird. _They acted on emotion instead of logic, and none of them ever seemed to understand how he saw the world. It was the curse of being a genius.

Those who could function around Tony and tolerate his social missteps were few and far between. That was exactly why he cared about them so much, even if he pretended not to.

He'd given Steve his trust. Which was stupid, he realized, because Steve hadn't given a damn. He had a hard-on for Howard, sure, but he had made his distaste for Tony clear since the beginning. A battle shouldn't have erased all the harsh words they had given each other.

Tony couldn't understand why he had ever bothered with Steve, now. Or maybe he just didn't want to.

What he did know was that now he could hold Loki, a murderer and criminal, in a higher opinion than Captain America. Yes, he couldn't trust either of them. But what he could trust was that Loki would always act in his own interest, no matter the circumstance. Loki was all about Loki just like Tony was all about Tony; it was something predictable. Relatable. Constant.

Tony Stark appreciated consistency.

But it didn't change the fact that having Loki in the workshop still felt downright _wrong. _

It had been a day since Natasha and Clint had left to go steal not-Thor's body from SHIELD, wherein Tony had gotten almost fifteen hours of sleep and Captain America had slept on the couch like a bad husband (betraying assholes didn't get to use the guest room). Loki had vanished for a time to do whatever the hell he wanted, returning shortly after Tony had started his breakfast-at-noon ritual. He'd been in the middle of wondering if the magician would come back when Loki popped up out of thin air and scared Tony so bad he'd almost choked on a pancake.

Now they were back in the workshop, where Tony was getting briefed on Loki's suspicions.

"Amora." He repeated the name, brow furrowed.

Loki nodded from across the worktable, hands splayed on top of the sleek glass. The blue light of the computer screen beneath glowed around his fingertips.

"An Enchantress. A friend, when times require it." he explained, "She is and has always been enamored with Thor."

Tony was skeptical. "If she wants in his pants, why make it look like I killed him?"

"If Thor is dead in the eyes of the universe, she can do whatever she pleases with him."

"Then how did she do it?" Tony challenged, shaking his head. "You were right next to me when you did your voodoo. You had to touch me."

Loki nodded. "Indeed." He glanced up to the ceiling, expectant. "JARVIS?"

_"Mr. Stark has had no unauthorized visitors in the past six months, Sir."_

"Sir?" Tony snapped. It was creepy how well his AI and Loki got along. It was like they were running on the same wavelength. "_I'm_ Sir."

_"Am I detecting jealousy, _Sir_?"_

"Don't sass me, JARVIS."

Loki endured this odd conversation between man and machine in silence, paying it little mind.

"And of his authorized visitors?" Loki inquired. "Any visiting women of fair hair and skin, preferably within forty-eight hours prior to the incident in New York."

"Interested in my one night stands?" Tony gave him a look.

Loki's gaze was patient, but intense. "Amora is known for her magic, but more so for her beauty. If she seduced you, I have no doubt she wove her spell while your defenses were down."

_"I've found a woman of that description in my security footage." _JARVIS reported, _"Shall I bring up the recording?"_

Tony nodded. "Skip the fun stuff, though."

The worktable hummed to life, projecting the security footage in hologram form between them. A dim-lit bedroom in the Avengers Tower appeared, where two sleeping forms were spread out between tangled sheets. Tony slept face down, mostly covered, with arms wrapped about his pillow instead of his guest. That second, smaller form was elegantly laid out in the darkness, her blonde head propped up on hand and elbow. She was watching Tony sleep, a thin smile gracing her lips.

"Amora." Loki identified. "Your choice in bed partners is astounding, Stark."

Tony shot him a glare through the hologram, but Loki was paying him no mind. On the screen, Amora had extended her hand and placed her fingers to Tony's temple, just as Loki had the day before. Foreign words spilled from her lips, too quiet to be recorded.

_"Sir, I apologize. I had processed her action as an intimate gesture."_

Tony shook his head with a sigh, stepping back from the table.

"Don't sweat it, buddy. She got us both." He absently scratched at the seam where his arc reactor met skin. She could have done more than magic if she had wanted to. "Get all the information you can from this. Do the research. Check in with me at the end of the hour."

The hologram flickered away. Loki straightened and stood back, eyes on Tony.

"She will have gone into hiding with him."

"So we find her." Tony said, leaning back onto the table. "We search the whole fucking world until we find the hole she's burrowed in."

He tapped on the tabletop screen and a holographic globe was projected, lazily spinning on its axis. They both watched it for a long while before Loki shook his head, letting out a soft sigh.

"Your scope is far too limited." He advised. "Think bigger."

Tony raised a brow. "How much bigger?"

"_Realms_." Loki erased the globe with a flick of his wrist, motioning for Tony to come about the table. "This is far grander than your small planet, Stark."

As Tony rounded the table's corner, the lights dimmed in the workshop. A green glow was left behind in the darkness, illuminating the two of them. It came from an unnatural fire that danced between Loki's hands, casting light that bounced off the gold embellishments of his armor. Green and white reflected bright in their eyes as it began to grow, encouraged by the spellcaster's will. Radiating with an energy that flooded the entire room and crawled underneath Tony's skin, a chill went through him. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

When Loki released his grasp on this power, it exploded in a burst of white light, sending a million diamond fragments to every corner of the workshop. An entire universe began to swirl into view around them, these magic droplets forming a map of complex galaxies and stars that were suspended in the darkness around them. Arms outstretched, Loki would coax each puzzle piece into place with only a few movements of his fingers, the green of his eyes now a burning emerald. When his magic settled, everything stilled, and the stars cast a faint white light over the pair of them.

Tony was breathless. It was like a hologram, but so much more exciting. It was beautiful. He was fascinated, his hand reaching out to touch a raindrop galaxy that hung in the air next to his face. It was hot to the touch, but did not burn.

"The Nine Realms." Loki introduced, letting his arms glide down to his sides.

In the center of his masterpiece, these distinct worlds were displayed. Loki moved to stand beside them, watching Tony approach in his curiosity.

"She could be in any of these realms. Some more likely than others."

The display was tiered, with three layers of orbiting planets. The uppermost contained three worlds, the middle four, and the bottom two. Tony recognized Earth's familiar appearance in the middle of it all as he reached out to touch it. His fingertips brushed over Asia.

"All right." Tony nodded, managing to focus. "What's your thought?"

Loki tilted his head momentarily, perplexed, as if he had not expected this question. But his eyes moved back to the realms only a second later, the moment gone.

"It is unlikely she is on Asgard. The risk of discovery would be too high." He waved his hand through an uppermost planet, which dimmed. "Muspelheim is home of demons; her enemies are too great in number for her to safely reside there. And Niffleheim..." He paused, pensive as he looked upon a lower realm. "Hel is-"

"Hell, as in heaven and hell?"

"Do not interrupt. Niffleheim is the land of the dead, known to most by the name of its ruler. It is different from the place you speak of, but the same. An Asgardian afterlife is in Valhalla, or in Hel." Loki shook his head decidedly and the realm dimmed. "She would not dare reside among the fallen."

"Six left, then." Tony crossed his arms over his chest, not one for talk on afterlives and Gods.

"Alfheim, Nidavellir, Svartalfheim, Vanaheim, and Jotunheim, to be precise."

"Gesundheit."

Loki ignored him. He circled the realms, thoughtful.

"Traveling to them isn't impossible without the Bifrost, but it is not easy. I will search the less likely realms while you prepare."

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. If Loki thought he was about to miss out on inter-dimensional, multi-planet adventuring, he had another thing coming.

"Prepare for what, exactly?"

"Whatever is necessary." Loki said, his eyes fixated on one of the worlds. "You will need to construct a suit appropriate for otherworldly conditions."

The lights in the room began to rise again, breaking the serenity of Loki's illusion. Tony watched with mild disappointment as the galaxies and stars began to fade around them, the nine realms wisping away like smoke when Loki stepped through them.

"You expect me to help you." Tony said, his throat dry. "Why should I?"

"I do not expect you to help me, Stark. I do not seek aid from others. What I expect is for you to help yourself."

An uneasy silence passed between them and Loki stopped at Tony's computer, reading over the files of research that JARVIS had begun to turn out. Tony's lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't like how _normal _this was all beginning to feel.

"Why are you doing this?"

The question hung in the air between them. Loki didn't make the slightest movement to indicate acknowledgement, but after a long moment he did turn back towards Tony. He was entirely unamused, jade eyes lidded with annoyance.

"You doubt me."

"Hell yes I do."

It only took Loki a few strides to clear the distance between them. Tony backed away by fractions, but his back hit the worktable and then Loki was there, looming over him. Damn, he was tall. To see eye-to-eye, Loki had to bend.

"Your mistrust is understandable." His hands moved to either side of Tony, gripping the edge of the table. He trapped the man between his own body and his work. "If we are to retrieve Thor, we must put our unpleasantries behind us."

Tony silently cursed, taking a sharp breath in. They were too close. Without the suit he was vulnerable, outmatched by a God, and Loki was taking advantage of it.

"For the time being, you must not see me as your enemy." He continued, green eyes intent. "We are allies, Anthony Stark, bound by a common goal. Without you, I would not be free of Asgard's prison. Without me, your head would have been claimed by the executioner."

"You didn't carethat I was in jail. I was an opportunity."

"As was I." Loki pointed out. "We used each other for our own interests. So long as our interests are the same, you have nothing to fear." His lips curved in a subtle grin, as if he had noticed something others could not see. "I do not seek your trust, Anthony. What I want is very simple: Thor returned, and Amora dead."

"Why?"

Slowly, Loki pulled away. Tony remembered to start breathing again as Loki offered his cryptic answer.

"I do not take kindly to people touching my things."

That Tony could understand.

"Then let's get to work."

Making a suit capable of deep space travel would take time, after all, and JARVIS was still cranking out files on Amora. Loki began to throw more of the research away than what he read, but Tony didn't care. Loki's wealth of knowledge would cut down the time they wasted on her.

He had just started work on the Mark XLII, blowtorch in hand, when JARVIS broke their focused silence.

_"Sir, Mrs. Potts has arrived."_

By the time Tony pushed up the protective face mask, Pepper was already there. She stood on the other side of the broken glass wall, staring at him like he wasn't real. Tony looked her over twice, unable to help himself. Her hair hung loose and framed a face without makeup. There was no tablet or clipboard clutched in her hands. She wore jeans, sneakers, and a too-large Metallica t-shirt. His shirt.

She was the prettiest damn thing he'd seen in ages.

"I told you I'd be fine." He cracked a smile.

Then she hit his chest with full force, knocking the breath straight out of him. He caught her in his arms, laughing breathlessly, and kissed her forehead as he tossed aside the welding mask.

"Pep."

She pulled back, touching his face. Her fingers ran over the sharp edges of his goatee, a faint smile on her lips. There were tears in her eyes.

"I can't believe it."

"Ye of little faith." His hand ran over the curve of her shoulder. "I've been to jail plenty of times. It hasn't killed me yet." Gently, he pulled away. "Did the kids behave?"

_"I was on my best behavior, I assure you."_

Pepper laughed a little at the AI's response, wiping her eyes. She sank into Tony's seat at the worktable and he leaned against its edge, glancing over to the spot where Loki had been working. The Asgardian had vanished.

"Tell me what happened. Everything, from start to finish."

Tony took a deep breath, looking back to her and crossing his arms over his chest.

He told her.

The most entertaining part of being the story teller was that he got to watch all the reactions. They played across Pepper's face without restraint. Concern came first; she didn't like that he'd been thrown in a white-box cell and ignored. Horror followed next when he mentioned Loki, but the story with the pen made her roll her eyes and laugh.

Tony was glad to see her smile.

Overall, it seemed his story just concerned her. He knew why. Teaming up with Loki wouldn't sit well with anyone who had been around for New York. Yeah, it was insane, he admitted, but it had worked. He and Loki had sprung free and were around to tell the tale about it. A few people had gotten stabbed in the process, but hey. That was normal when Loki was around.

"...Tony." She had her judge-y eyes on.

"I know, I know." He held his hands up in front of him in surrender. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?"

"But those desperate times are over." She insisted, looking pointedly about for the missing Trickster. "Why is he still _here_?"

Tony's jaw set. "We have to find Thor."

"Find Thor?" Her brow furrowed. "Tony, Thor-"

"Loki says it's an illusion." He turned on his heel and pulled up files on his computer screen for her, featuring the Enchantress. "Caused by her."

Pepper scanned her eyes over the screen, lips pursed.

"Isn't that...?"

"Yeah. She kinda went all magic-y on me."

JARVIS brought up the security camera footage from earlier, relaying the few seconds of spell casting that a sleeping Tony had been victim of. When it was over, Pepper leaned forward, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. Tony continued on, waving away the video feed.

"Loki says she wants to get with Thor, but he's never been interested. Apparently staging his death and stealing the real him away was her first choice in wooing him. Would have gone for flowers, myself, or maybe some mead."

"So Thor is alive?" She was looking at him now, but she seemed wary. Unconvinced. "How do you know Loki isn't lying to you? That this isn't just some big scheme?"

"Barton and Romanoff are off fetching the body." He admitted quietly, grim. "Loki will undo the illusion."

"And how do you know he's not just doing an illusion on top of Thor?" She pointed out, crossing her arms. "Tony, you can't trust him."

"I know, Pepper. Genius, and all?" He gave her a little smile. "I've got a back up plan. Always do. J, crack open the Rapunzel file."

She was skeptical, giving him "that face" again. When the file popped up on the screen, she looked, taken off guard by one of Tony Stark's dirty little secrets. Her mouth dropped open in horror.

"_Tony._"

Again, he held his hands up in surrender.

"You never know when you're going to need some Asgardian DNA." He defended himself. "It's just one hair, Pep, c'mon. An illusion doesn't have a genetic code. I can test it myself."

Throwing her hands up in both frustration and horror, Pepper Potts stomped out of the workshop like old times.

Tony chuckled. Now this was normal.

* * *

The next person to come see him was James Rhodes. Tony got him drunk enough that the Colonel completely forgot about his orders to apprehend his best friend, and they ended up upgrading War Machine - "I refuse to call any of my suits Iron Patriot, Rhodey. It's a goddamn international crime." - in a drunken stupor until the darkest hours of night. The Captain would appreciate the paint job, Tony thought, and then he decided to make it look more ridiculous by changing the chest light into a star shape.

Just as JARVIS was spraying on the final red, whites, and blues, Bruce Banner came down the stairs. James excused himself to the bathroom quickly and Tony cursed him. Yeah, leave him alone with the Hulk, _sure_, he'd be fine. Especially now that Banner thought he was a murdering criminal.

Bruce looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. He was nervous as he approached Tony, but JARVIS spoke before either of them could.

_"Before you say something you would regret, Sir, I approximate Dr. Banner spent approximately one and a half month's time researching the New York incident in the interest of proving your innocence." _

Tony looked to the ceiling, then back to the Avenger, shocked. There was JARVIS, always looking out for him.

"Just let me explain..." Bruce offered.

Only two minutes into this conversation, Tony's assumptions were shot down and his tenseness washed away in a flood of guilt. Bruce had been on his side all along. The beautiful bastard had been championing for him when he'd been tossed under the Asgardian bus. He'd been petitioning to get him back home, campaigning his innocence, pissing off Steve and Fury, making sure Pepper was taken care of, and he had even hid the spare arc reactors kept outside the lab from dirty thieving hands when people had searched his house up and down for Stark specialty tech (goddamn warrants).

When Tony learned SHIELD headquarters had faced a full blown Code Green when Fury had managed to grab the Mark VII from Avengers HQ, he decided that no one was a better man that Bruce Banner. Who cared if the Other Guy had smashed the stolen suit into pieces in one big green fist; he'd been a damn good friend, and Tony had doubted him. He felt a like a dirty hypocrite.

Tony forced Bruce to hug it out after that, relief surging over him. He did have one other person in his corner, and a damn good one too. He felt like shit for ever doubting him.

So the drunken pair added a buzzed plus one. Bruce didn't drink much, but that was mostly because a drunk Hulk would be as terrifying as it would be hilarious. Tony egged him on (much to Rhodey's horror), but he was resolute in staying mostly sober.

Eventually, Rhodey passed out in a chair, half his body slung over DUM-E. Tony and Bruce opened up the new Mark XLII files once he did, and started to tackle science like old times.

Steve Rogers stayed upstairs.


	6. Chapter 6

Tony had just finished making all the suit pieces for the Mark XLII, currently nicknamed "Badass," when Hawkeye came screeching into the garage portion of his workshop. Tony cursed and pulled away from his work, grumbling as he fished a fifty out of his pocket and thrust it towards his colleague.

"Told you they'd make it on time." Bruce smiled, taking the bill from him.

Two days, to the hour. The assassins had made it back right on time, much to Tony's dismay. He had been convinced it would take them longer, what with having to sneak a body as big as Thor's out of a high security place like SHIELD. He'd forgotten how damn good they were.

Clint jumped out of the front seat of the god-awful-gold minivan, sliding over the hood to open the passenger side door. Tony was about to make a quip about the stolen car's family decal on the back window when Natasha all but fell out of her seat.

She was thin and pale, with sweat on her brow and dark rings under her eyes. Her hands shook. Clint caught her before she tumbled from her seat, sweeping her into his arms. Striding forward and pushing all of suit pieces from the table to the workshop floor, ignoring Tony's curse of surprise, he lay his partner down. Bruce was at her side in an instant.

"What happened?"

Clint pulled out his knife, cutting open Natasha's skin suit at the hip. Pulling back the fabric, he revealed a grotesque wound of rotting skin and black sludge. It was Loki's work. Bruce's eyes got wide.

Shit.

Tony jumped over to his computer as quickly as he could.

"JARVIS, scan her."

_"Already done."_

DUM-E rolled up to Bruce with a medical kit as JARVIS' readings came up on the screen. Whatever magic Loki had blasted her with had caused more than just a flesh wound. It was a disease, spreading slow, killing everything it touched. Cruelly and mercilessly, it was rotting her like a corpse - like some sort of twisted zombie virus.

The body scan showed a lump of something worming around close to her intestines. A parasite?

"I'm not this kind of Doctor." Bruce protested lightly. "This is above my pay grade."

"Mine too, bud." Tony said, flipping through the readings on his screen. "Goddamn green bastard - not you, Bruce, sorry, the crazier one-"

Then he felt someone slam into him, rocketing him over his desk and through his projected computer screens. He hit the ground hard and there was a weight on top of him, the point of an arrow to his neck. Hawkeye had a hand around his neck.

"You are not going to kill her too!"

Tony didn't think. He acted.

Responding to the new computer chips installed in his forearms, a gauntlet from the suit-in-progress whirred to life and rocketed off the ground, flying their way. It took only a thought. This new suit was prehensile; the pieces attached independently to the user, operated through new nano-chip tech that turned thought into computer command. It was brilliant, if Tony did say so himself.

But it looked like brilliance needed some recalculations, because instead of attaching to his arm, the gauntlet punched Clint in the temple and threw him off Tony. Still, it worked. With Hawkeye down, he could roll to his feet, managing to notice just in time that the glove was boomeranging back. He threw his arm out so it could attach, and- oh, _fuck_, the thing nearly shattered every bone in his hand. Warm blood pooled inside the casing and Tony cursed.

Yeah, that definitely needed some recalibration.

As Hawkeye got up to his feet, Tony held the repulsor beam ready. Silence stretched between assassin and engineer.

"Clint, stand down." Steve's voice interrupted the battle. "He's not your enemy."

Captain America was standing at the workshop's entryway, looking like he hadn't slept well in days. Jeans and a white t-shirt looked strange on him, but they didn't detract from his soldier's stance. Steve Rogers was a military man, from the way he talked to the way he brushed his hair. His eyes found Tony and then quickly met the ground, but he gave his once-friend a nod. Tony stiffened, looking away.

Slowly, Clint straightened out of his fighting pose. He tucked his knife away and Steve nodded, slowly entering the room to see to Natasha. JARVIS must have told him.

Tony's gauntlet powered down, completely unlatching and falling off his arm once it did so. He inspected his personal damage now that his hand was free, greeted with a nice big gash cut into his middle finger, stretching down to the palm. The repulsor connections must have been loose...

Nursing his now-sore hand and wrapping a rag around the bloody cut, Tony moved over to Bruce and DUM-E. The robot was hovering, not being much help at all; he shooed it away, standing next to the doctor.

"Anything?"

Banner shook his head, grim. Natasha was unconscious.

"This is magic. I don't think we could treat it if we tried."

Steve folded his arms, eyes saddened as he looked at his friend. Grim, he brought his gaze back to Tony.

"Loki?"

He shook his head. "Not here."

Then her skin began to move, causing everyone around the table to jump three steps back. Like right before a xenomorph baby did its chest bursting, something was moving beneath her skin. Inside her. The wound began to ooze more black pus and Bruce looked like he might pass out.

"God all mighty." Steve covered his mouth with his hand, looking sick. "What is that?"

"That's fucked up, that's what it is." Tony said, leaning forward to inspect it. "Gross..."

Natasha began to shake, her breathing labored. Clint placed his hand on hers, taking a deep breath.

"She said it was healing..."

"She lied. Spies tend to do that." Tony muttered. "Whatever it is, it's coming out."

"Don't you dare touch-" But Steve stopped Clint, hand on his shoulder.

"Stark's right. It needs to come out."

Still, he hesitated. Whatever this was had Loki's nasty name written all over it, and he hadn't seen the sorcerer since Pepper had showed up. Poking it with a stick might only make it worse.

Tears leaked from Natasha's arms, making his decision for him.

Very glad that he hadn't eaten anything today, Tony began to work. His fingers pried at her rotted skin, examining the damage, and black blood seeping out at his touch. Ignoring the smell, he cleared away the mess, revealing skin that showed hints of red flesh. Places that hadn't been infected.

Her organs rolled again and Tony saw a flash of slime reflecting against the workshop lights, surfing through the fresh meat beneath the dead layers. Darting through the wound to grab it, he was suddenly hand-deep in Natasha's side and oh Jesus, _what in the holy hell!_?

Something was wriggling between his fingers, fighting his hold and tearing the cut in his hand worse.

Cursing loudly, he yanked hand and parasite out just in time to see the six-inch black worm wriggle underneath the rag bandaging his hand. It escaped into his wound before he could so much as blink. Everyone swore in response and Tony turned a deathly shade of white, watching the very prominent bulge of a people-eating parasite slither up his arm. He could feel it sliding between muscles and surfing under skin, dislodging his nano-chips and sending waves of searing pain through his body. He was on fire. Peripheral vision going dark, everything started to tunnel and he felt himself fall.

Someone caught him and then there was a very wonderfully cold hand on his arm, clamping around the invader and crushing it within his arm. Everything in his sight took on a green tint and ice chased the fire from his body, leaving him raw and ragged on the inside.

Loki let out a sigh, warm breath brushing over Tony's ear.

"Meddling in affairs far beyond you, I see."

Tony blinked and his world righted. Finding himself staring directly into at an ivory column of neck, he swallowed, trying to gather what had happened. Black hair, the sharp curve of an angular jaw... There was a hand on his arm, gripped tight, and the other was on his chest, palm and fingers fanned out on top of the arc reactor.

He pulled away too quickly, but managed to catch himself on the edge of the work table when the dizziness hit him. Loki's lips curled in amusement, his hand falling from the empty air where Tony's chest had been.

"She's survived, then?" Loki asked archly, looking around Tony to see the assassin. "Ah, barely surviving, by the grace of the one she forsook."

Clint yelled something absolutely profane, but Tony was still trying to gather himself. Leave it to Loki to pop up out of nowhere at the last damn second.

"What the hell was that?" He demanded, straightening up and inspecting his arm.

Loki turned to look at him. "Magic. You should recognize the trade."

Clint threw a dagger at the Asgardian's face, but the blade was trapped between two pale fingers before it could hit its mark. Loki tilted his head and gave his former peer a look, as if disappointed.

"Surely you know better by now, Barton." With a flick of his wrist the knife was lodged in the minivan behind them, sticking out of the sliding door. "But in the spirit of a truce..."

He placed his hand on Natasha's wound, a green mist steaming from beneath his palm before anyone could protest. This seemed to give his victim life, color returning to Natasha's face and her trembling fading. When he pulled his hand away, perfect flesh lay beneath. It was as if the wound had never happened.

"I have no intention of adding red to my ledger this day." He said with finality. "Let us tend to the false Thunder God."

Tony blinked, remembering what all this nonsense was really about. Thor.

Steve gathered Natasha in his arms and sat her down in a chair to rest while Loki parted from the group, starkly out of place. He stalked over to the van and slid open the door. Tony could hardly look.

Within lay the body of Thor Odinson, pale and lifeless. Nothing about it was right - in fact, nothing about it _looked _right. It had been months since New York, but Thor's body was the same as the day he had fallen, if not paler. There was no decay. No gaunt cheek or hollowed eye sockets. It was just Thor, as if he were asleep.

Tony found it was easier to look at him if he thought about it that way.

Loki lifted his brother into his arms, which was a strange sight indeed. The brothers were two very different sides of a coin. One was gold and larger than life, while the other was dark and meant for the shadows. If one was supposed to carry the other, it was not meant to be the younger carrying the older. But Loki did so without much difficulty, striding forward with the brute of a man in his arms, cradled with an arm under the knees and one across his shoulder blades.

Awkwardly hefting the body onto the table, Loki let out a thoughtful hum as Thor settled. Everyone was still and silent, grim in respect for death. In contrast, Loki smiled. Of course he was smiling.

"I do not know what will be revealed when the spell is unraveled." The sorcerer warned, striding to the head of the table. "Prepare yourselves, Avengers."

In the second that Loki looked away from his brother to move around the table, Tony plucked a hair from the Thunder God's head. He stepped away, muttering something incoherent when Bruce gave him a look, and went to his computer. No one seemed to be paying him any attention as he slipped the brown hair into the scanner.

Tony's brow furrowed. Brown? Had he-

"Stark." Loki called him name, expectant. Tony turned to respond, shutting down the computer monitors as JARVIS analyzed away. The emerald gaze was calm, magic swirling and restrained within their depths. Loki was waiting.

Tony took a deep breath, nodding.

With permission granted, Loki pressed his hands to the sides of Thor's head. His fingers weaved through loose strands of blond and stretched down a grey neck, brushing over the soft flesh of vulnerable skin. He let out a quiet breath and then _something _filled the room in a wave of cold, stilling everyone where they stood. The lights dimmed as they had when Loki had shown him the universe.

Tony closed his eyes just as Thor's body began to glow the same green as Loki's eyes.

_"Sir, the DNA sample you provided does not match the Rapunzel file. But I do have another match." _JARVIS reported in his earpiece.

A match. Another human being.

Even if Thor was alive, Tony had still killed someone.

Maybe it was a criminal, he hoped. JARVIS had access to all the criminal databases. If some poor sap from death row was Amora's victim, Tony's victim... Maybe that would be easier to swallow.

He inhaled sharply through the nose, keeping himself under control. No anxiety attacks today. Keep it together, he told himself. Everything with be fine, he lied. He hadn't betrayed anyone.

Loki let out a shuddering breath and Tony's eyes opened to see energy flash over Thor's body. The spell had broken, burned away by green flames dancing over Thor's skin. As the emerald in Loki's eyes dimmed back to green, these flames died. Silence was left in the wake of magic and then there was a resounding crack, echoing loud in everyone's ears.

Thor's body fractured like a broken shell, able to hold its form only for a heartbeat longer. Then it began to flake away on an unnatural wind, slowly at first, before it began to dissolve into ash and dust. It fell away to reveal the truth beneath the lie; a smaller form, dead and useless on the table, covered in the remains of the magic before.

"Oh my..." Loki hummed, as if he might have been impressed.

Steve and Bruce turned away. Clint cursed. Loki touched the body before him, turning her head one way and another with his hand on her chin.

Jane Foster was still and cold on the workshop table, all life long gone from her battered form.

Tony felt himself grow small as JARVIS confirmed the DNA results in his ear.

* * *

Tony holed himself up in his room after that and no one dared to bother him. His usual escape would be the workshop, but _she _was there, so he went upstairs and locked the doors behind him.

The shower water was scalding hot, but Tony wanted it that way. The steam filled the room and fogged the mirror, and it was so humid he could hardly breathe, but that was good. It hurt enough to make him forget, for just an instant, what he had done. The metal of the arc reactor warmed beneath the water.

It was no wonder that Thor hadn't fought back now. Mjölnir hadn't come to him because he was she, and she was just a mortal against a weaponized superhero. Against Iron Man. Jane Foster, the astrophysicist, hadn't stood a chance.

Still, it didn't all make sense. Jane had been there at the Bifrost point, after Thor, and had given him a solid bitchslap across the face. But how could he be sure anyone was who they were supposed to be, anymore?

"JARVIS?" Tony called over the shower, "Jane Foster's eye color."

_"Brown, Sir."_

Her eyes had been green when he'd seen her.

Tony cursed and punched the wall. The cut on his hand split open and started to bleed again, but he didn't care.

Fuck Amora and her shapeshifting self. Damn her, damn Asgard, and damn _everyone. _

When the water's heat became uncomfortable, Tony turned the knobs to bring forth freezing temperatures. Probably not the best for himself, he thought, but he didn't care. The tears weren't real; it was just water running down his face.

When he couldn't stand the chill anymore, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel about his waist, turning himself to the mirror. Wiping away the fog, he was met with a reflection of himself that he didn't like. Shame and sadness weren't good looks on Tony Stark. He preferred a charmed smirk, or even a drunken blush. Anything but this.

He shaved with a rigorous determination, making sure every line of his beard was sharp and crisp and absolutely perfect. By the time that was done, his determination had waned. Thoughts of Jane crept back and he just ran his good hand through his hair. Bandaging his hand, he pushed open the door and stepped out into the crisp air of his bedroom. JARVIS had opened the balcony door. It smelled like the ocean.

"Locking yourself in your quarters does you no favors, Stark."

To his credit, Tony managed to keep it together. Walking out of the shower half-naked to find Loki in your bedroom wasn't the most comforting of situations.

"Security breach." He complained, keeping a hold on the towel about his waist.

Loki was standing on the balcony, back to the mansion and hands on the railing. The breeze rustled through his hair and pulled at the edges of his trench coat, which he didn't seem to mind. Tony slipped on a pair of sweats while the God was turned away, presumably distracted by the waves of the ocean.

"You would be a fool to let her distract you from our goal." Loki advised. "Whatever guilt you feel-"

"You know what? Just shut it." Tony grumbled, "She was Thor's girl and I killed her. I can't just act like it didn't happen."

Acting like things hadn't happened usually just ended up with him building more suits, but she as still down there on his work table. He couldn't stand the sight of it, even though his hands itched to build. Build to fill the nothing.

Loki turned on his heel, stepping into the room. His eyes darted this way and that, examining the private quarters of one infamous Tony Stark.

"Why do you insist on taking the blame for her blood when you refused to take the blame for Thor's? Nothing about it is different but for the face." Loki observed. "Her blood is worth far less than the Thunderer's."

"Everything is different." Tony made a face, aggravated. "Thor is a warrior. A fighter. A God with a magic hammer. Jane was just a scientist"

"You're a scientist, Stark."

"-and she was defenseless. I have a suit of armor with weapons from top to bottom. She had a false identity."

All the fear in Thor's eyes suddenly made sense. Feeling somewhat ill and a lot angry, Tony sat down on the edge of his bed. Loki paced near, stopping in front of him.

"You were enspelled."

Tony grit his teeth. Jaw set, he rubbed at his beard.

"I killed."

At this, Loki rolled his eyes. He stepped away, examining Tony's things about the room. He took interest in the telescope near the windows, with its lens pointed towards the heavens. His long fingers ran over its length, carelessly moving it off its viewpoint.

"You have killed many times. They called you the Merchant of Death once, did they not?"

Tony jolted, completely tensing. That son of a bitch.

"I am_ not_-"

"Deny. Refuse. I do not care." Loki murmured. "You need not justify your past to me."

Tony stood, fists balled. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I am Loki, of Asgard." his response was dry. "God of Lies. Of Mischief. Of Chaos."

"And I'm Tony fucking Stark. Billionaire. Genius. Iron Man." he snapped back, "Not the Merchant of Death and not your goddamn pawn, Loki. I made Iron Man to protect people, not to kill, and I'll be _damned _if an adopted kid with Daddy issues starts trying to play me to his tune."

Then Loki's hand was around Tony's neck and he was pressed against a wall, toes able to just brush the ground. They were far too close and anger burned through them both. One insult sparked against the last and they were both ready to fight, pent-up with old pains. The guy was strong - how did Tony always forget that? - and his grip was like steel, but a rightly time knee to the abdomen was enough to get out of his grasp. Tony side-stepped away and Loki breathed a laugh, half-stepping back.

"You would do well to remember who I am, Stark." When he righted his smile was devious and thirsty, fingers twitching at his side. "And remember how vulnerable you are."

"I don't need a suit." he said. "And I don't need you. Piss off."

"Oh, you don't need me?" Loki began to circle and Tony followed suit, carefully watching the Trickster God. "Where would you be now without me, Stark? I imagine your head would be decorating a spike."

"Maybe. And maybe you'd still be rotting in that cell."

"You have a debt to pay."

"I don't owe you anything."

"A debt to Thor."

This quieted him. Loki took that split second of an opportunity to advance, his hand pressing against Tony's chest to ram him into the wall again. Tony's head bounced against the wall and Loki's palm was pressed against the arc reactor. Tony grimaced, wondering if Loki knew exactly what it was. This time, he didn't fight.

"You know the truth of it." the God whispered, "If you feel such grief over Thor's woman's death, accept it. Know your place and do what you seem so fond of doing: avenging." His fingers tensed around the edges of the reactor, hinting that he might know what pulling the device out could do. His other hand rest beside Tony's head, a knowing gleam to his eyes. "Harness this rage inside you, Stark. Use it. If you do not, you will fall, and you are useless if you are swallowed by the void."

After a silent moment to allow his words to sink in, Loki released him. Tony took a sharp breath in and shook his head, bewildered. Why did they always end up so close to each other?

God dammit, he was losing his mind.

"I get today to get drunk and stupid on my roof and forget about this for twelve hours." he bargained, running his fingers through his hair, "And you're going to join me."

Loki raised a brow, curious.

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are." Tony said, pulling on a black shirt from the floor.

To his surprise, Loki simply nodded. Tony nodded in return and they exited his room, gathering some of his better liquor and ascending up the stairs to his roof. Up there the ocean air was crisp and the waters were laid out before them, reflecting the light of the falling sun. Planting himself on the edge of the roof and putting his legs over the edge, Tony opened the first bottle. Loki seated himself beside him, an unfamiliar flask in his hand.

"Hiding booze in that cloak?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Your Midgaridan drink is unfortunately weak."

"Yeah, Thor always complained about that."

Tony stared into the mouth of his bottle, his thumb running around the lip. Loki was quiet, gazing out over the ocean again. He always seemed to find something interesting to look at in the waves.

For a long time, their silence stretched. Together they gazed out over the ocean, thinking different things as the waves lapped against the cliffs. The air was cold up here, but Tony didn't mind it much. Alcohol would keep him warm soon enough.

"Who do we drink to, Anthony?"

The engineer took a deep breath, leaning back on one hand and holding his bottle towards Loki.

"To Jane. To Thor." At each name, Loki's look only soured. But Tony wasn't done. "And to you."

Now this got Loki's attention. He raised a brow, his expression expecting explanation.

"To you finding Amora so we can hang her pretty head on a wall."

Loki smirked, accepting the toast. "To you as well, then."

Their glasses clinked as they tapped together, and then God and man began to drink to each other.


	7. Chapter 7

There was a weight in the bed beside him.

Consciousness slowly came swimming back to Tony Stark. His hand found his eyes and he rubbed sleep from their corners, yawning into the morning. Mumbling a question of the time to JARVIS, he soon decided 8:32 AM was too early to wake up, and rolled over onto his stomach to nuzzle into the pillows again.

A deep, quiet voice cursed him for being so loud as he slipped back into sleep, and Tony was too far gone to think much about it.

When he woke again, it was noon. The weight that was in the bed before was still there, but it no longer slept.

"Good morn, Stark."

A one night stand calling him 'Stark' was never a good thing, he mused into his pillow. It was usually Tony, or baby, or maybe sweetheart. They only called him Stark when he'd been an ass, or if they were some enemy in disguise. That had happened too often lately, he realized, and he rubbed at his neck. As he woke up more, he could feel the discomfort of his hangover. Water and a shower, that was what he needed, with a healthy does of painkillers to chase away the headache. Maybe his new friend would be nice enough to play nurse, today...

He heard himself mumble something in response, meant to soothe whatever anger his bed partner had. It was met with a quiet chuckle, one that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Fraternizing with the enemy, then?" the voice responded, amused, "While I am flattered, it does take more than a few drinks to woo me."

Tony shot straight up. There hadn't been anyone to bring home last night. No, he'd decided to get blackout drunk - and blackout drunk it was, because he wasn't remembering much - with his favorite reindeer God on the roof last night, because his last one night stand hadn't gone so well.

"Speechless?" Loki inquired, laughter still singing in his tone. "Why, that must be a first."

Tony blinked away the last of his sleep and the world came into view. He was tangled in his sheets and Loki sat on top of them, fully dressed with an ancient book in his hands. His eyes were on its pages and not on his bed partner, and as always, he was completely disinterested in everything around him.

"Would you kindly get the hell out of my bed?" Tony grumbled, falling back onto the pillows and throwing an arm over his eyes.

Loki's book snapped shut and vanished, but he didn't rise from the bed.

"Water?" he offered instead.

Tony adjusted his arm to look at Loki with one eye, both skeptical and surprised. Despite his hesitations, the hangover pounding behind his skull was grateful for this, and he nodded. Which was a stupid, stupid thing to do, he realized. It was too late to take it back, though, and the wicked gleam had already come to the Trickster's eyes.

An invisible bucket from above dropped a large, cold splash of water on Tony's face, soaking him to the bone. He cursed and rolled onto the floor, accompanied by the sounds of Loki's light laughter.

"Asshole." Tony grumbled, bringing himself up to his knees and then to his feet, shaking out his hair. Practical jokes were only fun when he was not on the receiving end of them. Even so, it was just weird to see Loki playful. Was that even a thing?

"You had your drunken escapade, as promised." Loki wiped an offending water droplet off his cheek, standing from the bed in one fluid motion. "Now we must turn our focus back to the task at hand."

Tony pulled at his wet shirt, peeling it off with incoherent complaints. Both of them having clothes on was good a sign, he knew. Though he'd arguably done worse than screw around with someone on SHIELD's top ten list, he was absolutely not ready to open Pandora's Box with this particular brother of Thor.

"Why were you in my bed?" he demanded.

"Because you insisted upon it." Loki answered, tone unhinting, "You are an interesting drunk, Anthony Stark. But fret not. You were not taken advantage of."

Tony groaned again and rustled his fingers through his hair, forcing out the worst of the water. He decided he would ignore that comment.

"Stark or Tony. Pick one." he corrected. "So you remember last night?"

A smirk pulled at Loki's lips. "You do not."

Tony's face pulled in concentration. "I think I almost fell off something, at one point."

"Yes, the roof." Loki recalled, "It was then I made the decision to move you inside the building. Your computer approved."

"Good 'ol JARVIS. Speaking of which - damage report in ten, please, I'll see it in the workshop."

_"Already compiled, sir. I'm sure you'll be glad to know that you incurred no debts and caused no property damage." _JARVIS' tone was mocking. Tony chose not to comment.

"Shall we, then?" Loki gestured towards the door.

"Orange juice, breakfast, then suit and work and other worlds. Promise. Scout's honor." He paused, then, remembering the day before. "Is she..."

"Gone. Indeed?."

Tony nodded, pulling on a new shirt he grabbed out of a drawer. That was a good enough answer for him.

Breakfast (lunch, really - it was after noon) didn't take long, because Tony ended up skipping it entirely. He had come into the kitchen, Loki in tow, to find it had been taken over by the Avengers. Steve had made lunch for Clint, Natasha, and Bruce; pasta, a fan favorite. Still raw from the events of the day before, Tony had simply walked straight on by the lot of them, not wanting to talk. However, he couldn't stop himself from glancing at them as he passed.

Bruce had an expression of confused concern, Natasha's red eyebrows were raised high, and Steve had paused mid-drink from his shield emblazoned mug, but Clint's look definitely took the cake. The archer seemed absolutely traumatized by some realization, a forkful of food in a slack jaw and eyes wide. Tony had been bewildered by their reactions at first - "What, no good morning?" he had quipped - but the amused glimmer in Loki's gaze made it clear.

Tony should have been offended, but he knew himself better than that. No, it wasn't entirely out of the range of possibilities for him, and yes, he had just left his bedroom _with _Loki; he knew what that looked like. The implication was loud and clear to his old teammates, who were all together torn between disbelief and shock. Loki wasn't helping soothe their fears either, giving Clint a look that might have confirmed his suspicions. He was having too much fun with it.

Tony shrugged at his house guests and threw his hands up in the air, _what can you do?_, and then descended down to the workshop. Hey, if denial wasn't going to work, why not play a hand from Loki's deck and have some fun? He totally did not smile when he heard Clint choke on his food; Natasha had apparently said something quite shocking. Whatever it was was lost to Tony, though - there was work to be done.

"Daddy's home!" he declared, crossing through his sanctuary to the glorious mini-fridge, "Damages, J?"

_"Surprisingly none, sir." _the AI answered, tone dry, _"A first, if my records are correct. Are congratulations in order?"_

"Sure." Water bottle and painkillers in hand, Tony popped the little pills and gulped down half the bottle. Wiping his mouth on his forearm, he nodded. "Pizza."

_"Shall I buy out the company if it doesn't arrive in thirty minutes or less?"_

"That was only once, and I was drunk and starving to death."

_"A life or death situation, surely." _JARVIS agreed, _"The usual?"_

"You know me too well, buddy."

Loki was already working as Tony sauntered over, standing at a computer desk that definitely didn't belong to him. The screens were up and processes were running, with pieces of the suit-in-progress spread out on the display. For a moment, Tony wondered when Loki had gotten a log-in, then wisely decided not to question it. They'd face that bridge once they had to jump off it. He could always just change his authentication codes.

"All right, Magic Man." Tony said, a flurry of hand movements bringing up all the Mark XLII files up on screen. His hands touched the rendering and pulled back on it, bringing a hologram to float over the table. With a flick of his wrist, the 3D model spun in the air in front of them. "Let's get to work."

Loki was prepared with a verbal account of everything the new suit would need to fit their unique target and travel needs. Deep space travel, check. Resistance to temperature extremes, already developed. Weapons, covered to hell and back. Galactic positioning services (ha, GPS) and a map of the known Asgardian universe? Well, he didn't have that on his servers, but it wouldn't take long to put together.

When a new color scheme was suggested, Tony decided the list was done. Shaming his favorite reds and golds was just going too far.

Twenty minutes in, Loki was finishing mapping out what he called "Yggdrasil," the Norse gibberish code for Nine Realms, for JARVIS' servers. It was unsettling how fast he had picked up on the hologram interfaces, but Tony tried not to think about it. His time in Asgard had given him an idea of how advanced other worlds were compared to Earth. So instead of mulling over how weak his planet really was, Tony had vehemently insisted that the name for the map was up for debate; he had a strict rule about being able to pronounce what he called his tech.

"Your greatest weakness is your vulnerability to magic." Loki decided, having largely ignored a majority of Tony's protestings. "We do not have time on our side, so I will not waste it attempting to teach you the finer secrets of the art."

"I'm a fast learner." Tony assured him. "Magic can't be that bad."

"It is more than knowledge. It is a gift. Were you granted with such, it would still take you centuries to understand it. We do not have that leisure."

"Fine. But if I can't do it, the suit's going to have to. If magic has an energy signature, I can build something into the HUD to detect it." He was bent over the suit gauntlets with a soldering iron, DUM-E at his side to help. "If I could scan you-"

"Absolutely not." Loki answered, stepping away from his finished work. JARVIS thanked him, complimented his fast work speed, and shut down the holograms, processing the information that had been provided. "An enchanted item, however, is something I can provide."

"Worth a shot."

Tony put down his iron and spun away from the worktable, pulling up his goggles and jumping up on his feet. He was at the computers again, typing away on the projected keyboard atop his desk.

"JARVIS, get your scanners ready, and turn on some music. Loki, what've you got?"

The pulse of drums began out of the speakers. Loki had migrated over to where Tony had been working, dismissing the robot he had left behind with a wave of his hand. He had the gauntlet in his hand.

"Hey, don't touch my stuff."

Loki ignored Tony's protest (again) and the magic bled into his eyes, a faint flash of green emitting from his palm. A blanket of emerald light now hung about the gauntlet like an aura, tides of magic shifting and swirling on the surface of unpainted silver and within the exposed wiring. Tony let out a sigh as Loki handed him the device.

"What did you do to it?" he lamented, "If I have to make another one of these, I swear..."

"Suspicious, Stark?"

"Of you? Always." His tone was mockingly endearing, but Loki seemed to enjoy that. He chuckled, simply standing aside.

Tony slipped passed him to place the gauntlet on the dais where he usually suited up, JARVIS' mechanical arms standing by around it. Once safely behind his computer screens again - though that wasn't really any protection, he knew - Tony nodded.

"All right, buddy, light 'er up."

A few seconds later, the scan was done. Images popped up on the screen, which Loki watched with interest.

_"Sir, my readings are inconclusive. An unidentifiable energy source has been detected. I assume this was your hope?"_

And sure enough, said energy was highlighted on the rendering before them. Veins spread through the Iron Man forearm and hand, stretching and webbing out like blood beneath the skin. The energy flowed like water through the mechanics, seeping into every crevice and coating the surface. It was very much real, and very much alive.

"Interesting." Loki mused. "While the magic is active, it is visible to your devices. When it sleeps, however, it is invisible."

"How can you tell?" Tony wondered, reaching out to enlarge and examine the scans.

"I enchanted it twice over, yet only one spell appears. Do try not to ask stupid questions, Stark."

Tony shot him a look, but he had probably deserved the insult. It wasn't his fault he hadn't spent thousands of years studying this. Math and science were his poisons, not magic.

"JARVIS, let's take this signature and add it to the sensors. Code it green."

"_Indeed, sir. Processing."_

Loki gave him a tolerant look, waving away the hologram.

"It will need testing." he assumed.

Tony nodded. "That's where you come in. But our little prodigal son needs some love and care first, doesn't he? If he doesn't get some air time, he's going to keep knocking the shit out of Daddy instead of actually attaching like he's supposed to – though, granted, that sucker punch he gave Clint was pretty damn awesome."

Loki was giving him an odd look, but Tony didn't dwell to think on it. Most people gave him similar stares for almost everything he did.

"_Our_ son, Stark?" The God asked, eyebrow arched.

Tony shrugged, stepping away to go back to soldering. He didn't like how his thoughts began to wander as he saw Loki lean against his computer desk.

"What, mad that you have to be 'Mommy'?"

An unexpected death stare suddenly came his way, sharp as daggers and cold as ice. It looked like he had stepped on Loki's foot again, and the impending mood swing was coming full force his way. The threat that came along with that was so much more real now that they weren't separated by cell walls.

"Stark, if-"

"Pizza." Natasha's voice stopped the oncoming storm. Tony smiled to see her there, his celebratory pizza delivery in hand, relieved that he could at least stick her between himself and an angry God if things went south. "We all had to sign autographs for a snot-nosed delivery kid, thanks to you."

"Oh, you poor dear." Tony mocked, tone light. "The woes of being a hero."

She shrugged and entered the workshop. Placing the pizza on a table as she passed by Loki, pointedly not looking at him, she approached Tony. He gave her a quizzical glance before he snapped his goggles back on his face, intending to begin work. But she stopped him, withdrawing a small flash drive from her pocket and holding it his field of vision.

"Files of interest from SHIELD. Director Fury's computer."

He pulled his goggles back up, flabbergasted. Still, like a child offered candy, he was quick to snatch the flash drive from her.

"Why?"

She didn't answer. Natasha didn't apologize in words – words were misleading, and words contained lies. But action, selfless and somewhat self endangering? From an assassin like her, that was a way to make amends.

"Did I ever tell you that you were my favorite?" he asked after a beat, jumping up from his chair. "But if I get a computer virus or little SHIELD bugs in my system because of this, Fury's getting a pretty note telling him where I got this."

She smiled, as if she had expected nothing less from him. Without another word, Natasha made her way out of the workshop, stealing a piece of pizza as she left. Loki watched her go, amused.

"A traitor on Fury's payroll, then?"

"Nah." Tony snagged a slice and plugged in the flash drive, smiling to himself. "She's on her own team. Fury just thinks she works for him."

For a while, they both turned their attention from the suit. A few broken encryptions later, they were in, and the contents of Nick Fury's computer unraveled before them.

Granted, most of it was stuff they already knew. Loki's file was largely vague and unimpressive, though apparently SHIELD thought he had been in New Mexico before appearing in New York (Loki gave a bitter smirk at that one). Tony's file was long and tedious, but mostly bullshit padding; they had limited knowledge on the Ten Rings, almost no information on how the arc reactor and Iron Man technology worked, and some various interviews with some one night stands. A file within a file revealed there were essays written by a profiler on his relationships with other people, but Tony didn't dare open them.

"Thor's file." Loki requested through a mouthful of his second slice of pizza. God, he looked disturbingly normal with a slice in hand.

Tony nodded. A few hand motions later, the file of Thor Odinson unraveled on the screen in front of them, spilling all its contents. It started in New Mexico and ended in New York, when Amora had worked her magic.

But what Tony found last made rage boil up inside of him.

_Initial testing on the deceased, Thor Odinson, is inconclusive. _A coroner's report read. _Blood work appears normal, but when hair or tissue samples are gathered, they alter in color; blond hair turns to brown, and skin samples undergo slight pigmentation changes. These DNA samples were ordered in the interest of reference and research, but testing proves that nothing is out of the ordinary. There are no abnormalities or fundamental differences to indicate that the deceased is of a foreign planet (see: ASGARD). Our tests have concluded that any and all analysis on the deceased has produced results that indicate the samples are of human origin, not alien. In fact, these samples indicate an unknown female human..._

They had known. Fury had known, and the proof of it was staring Tony Stark straight in the face.

"Oh dear..." Loki murmured, having been reading over his shoulder. "What friends you have."

Tony had been millions of light years away, sitting on death row, while Fury had sat on his ass and twiddled his thumbs with the knowledge that Thor wasn't Thor. One word to Asgard could have stayed the executioner's hand. Just one sentence, one mention that Thor could still be alive, and Tony would have been saved. But no, SHIEELD had been more content to have their heads up their asses and Tony's neck on the line.

"JARVIS, connect me to Nick Fury. _Now._"

Tony wiped all the files off the screen with one angry hand movement, waiting for the video feed to open. Loki stepped out of frame, lingering on the edges. As Fury's face flickered to life, the music that had been pounding through the workshop lowered.

"Why, look who it is." Fury greeted, folding his hands together. "Our international, inter-dimensional outlaw. Isn't it my lucky day?"

The shit storm that followed was enough to make Loki proud. Some very colorful and creative insults poured from Tony, all said with such a rage that he probably could have summoned a thunderstorm himself. Fury sat through it in relative patience, his eyebrows twitching occasionally with irritation, and only spoke once the wrench Tony threw through the screens clattered to the ground.

"Contrary to what you might think, the world does not revolve around you." Fury stated, eye cold. "Revealing that we had Thor's body risked war with Asgard. Revealing that Thor probably wasn't Thor? Well, that guaranteed a goddamn war. And after that little stunt your new friend over there..."

"Hello, Director." Loki had stepped into the view of the camera.

"...threw in New York, after all the _people he killed, _I'm sure you can see why war with Asgard is more important than you. We are not adequately prepared to go into conflict with another realm full of people like him."

"So it's just fine and dandy to throw someone to 'people like him' instead, is it?" Tony demanded, seething. "This has nothing to do with war and everything to do with you not wanting blood on your hands. You and your precious little SHIELD and your goddamn Initiatives. Can't smear the name of your super secret boy band, _no_, because then things might not go your way."

"You already made the team look-"

"I did _nothing_!" Tony slammed his fist on the table. "Without me, where would the Avengers be, huh? Without Iron Man, a nuke would have blasted New York. Millions would have died. Without my tech, without my company, we would have lost and Loki would be sitting pretty on a throne with your head on a spike."

"What you did is irrelevant." Fury was standing now, a vein pulsing angrily in his neck. "You killed-"

"I was possessed!"

"And no one gives a shit."

Tony glared, eyes hard and angry. Fury continued through his silence.

"As far as Asgard knew, there were no traces of Thor's body left." Loki scoffed in the background. "Their blood was spilled, and they wanted blood in return. The evidence pointed at you. The decision had already been made."

"Oh, so let's ship off Tony, then. This isn't totally out of character for him at all! This picture makes perfect sense." Tony mocked. "I thought teammates were supposed to trust each other."

"Do you take me for a damn fool? The only team you're on is your own. Always have been." Tony reared back like he'd been struck. Fury barreled on. "This picture is really quite simple. When it comes between the safety of the world and you, Tony, well... you just don't matter."

Fuck him. Screw SHIELD, screw his Avengers Initiative, and screw his ugly fucking eye patch. Sharply turning his back on the computer, Tony started to give a command to JARVIS, but another sound stopped him.

"Director!"

He turned back to see the one and only Captain America barging into Fury's office, a panting Agent Coulson following him in moments later.

"Sir, I tried..."

"How is he alive?" Loki demanded over Coulson's apologies, a very bitter tone to his voice.

Tony ignored him for the moment, eyes glued to the screen.

"Natasha told me what she found in your files." Steve was saying, his hands balled into lethal fists at his sides. "What happened to never leaving a soldier behind?"

Fury was more cautious now that he was face-to-face with an angry super hero, but his resolve remained. He stood.

"Captain, this doesn't concern you."

"No, it concerns me. He was on _my _team." Rogers took a step forward. Coulson looked torn on whether or not he wanted to draw a gun on his idol. "You told me there was no doubt. But this?" He slammed his fist on a table and the wood cracked, collapsing the furniture in on itself. "Where is this justice in this?!"

"Justice doesn't always matter, Rogers. Avoiding a war is. It was millions of lives over one, and I'll be damned if Anthony fucking Stark matters more than the world. One soldier-"

"It only takes one solider to save the world, Director."

He wasn't a soldier, but Tony would be a damn liar if he said that statement hadn't gotten through to him. Whatever moment could have been was shattered, however, when Loki spoke.

"While your sentiment is touching, Captain, actions speak louder than words. Not all are cursed with your impeccable morality." Steve's eyes got big as he saw Tony and Loki on the computer screen. Fury was in a silent rage. "Believe you me, betrayal leaves quite a scar."

The connection died as Fury shut it off. Still angry, but a little less so after Steve's entrance, Tony walked away from the screen. He could feel Loki's eyes on the back of his head, like lasers drilling through his skull, but he ignored it. Getting back to work would feel a lot better than having to listen to whatever Loki had to say on the subject at hand.

"Has his display swayed you, then?"

Ah, dammit. Hook and bait right there, dangling dangerously close to his face. He was dumb enough to bite at it, too.

"Steve's a good man." Tony grunted. He snatched up the gauntlet he had left on the dais, slipping it on his hand. Despite being enchanted, it still felt fine.

"The Captain betrayed you."

"I know what he did." Tony snapped, taking a seat and picking up a screwdriver. Methodically, he began attaching the armor plating back on the glove, concealing all the wires and machinery he had been tinkering with earlier. "But he didn't have the whole story, either."

"You attachment to them will be your downfall. They handed you to your executioner, but all it takes to buy your favor are sweet words and careful action." Loki gave him a scathing look, full of judgment. "Perhaps that should be expected. I sought your death not a year past and now you seem to trust me."

Tony twisted in a screw a little too hard. "What do you know about betrayal?"

"Oh, Stark, I know everything about betrayal. The same as you." Loki responded, "And I also know that your little team is your greatest weakness. Caring for them, weighing yourself down with sentiment and a twisting code of justice and morals - all of it will be your downfall, because you become so very predictable when bound by this code."

"We're stronger together. Someone has your back, and you've got their's. You can trust that they will be there when-"

"You can trust that they will turn on you when you give them the slightest doubt. No matter if you act in their favor and mean to protect them, they will forsake you the instant blood spills in the water. Why stand at their side when they so readily judged you rouge?"

A long moment passed in silence. Tony flexed his hand, testing the feeling of the glove's dexterity. The repulsor slowly powered up, willed to life by his whim to make something explode, but it powered down again.

"I haven't forgiven their bullshit. But if anyone didn't deserve a second chance, it was me, but I got one." Tony shook his head, laughing bitterly. "Who are you to talk, anyway? 'Friends make you weak,' but that's got to apply to siblings too. And, oh, you get testy when Thor is-"

This was getting routine now. Tony stuck between Loki and a hard place, with a cool hand wrapped around his neck. This time, he could just flash a smile at it. His point was proved.

"See?"

The smooth metal of the gauntlet pressed against the expanse of Loki's chest. Tony wiggled his fingers to remind him it was there, his smile still strong. At least time time he had a weapon for himself.

Loki's face twisted into disgust, but whether it was for himself or for his opponent was unclear. He gave Tony one final press into the back of the chair before releasing him, taking a few strides away.

"I don't trust easy." Tony admitted. "And the last people I'm going to trust are those two SHIELD kiddies and that star-spangled-ass upstairs. But Bruce, Pepper, and Rhodey have earned it." He glanced up, looking at the tall figure of a God. "The question is if I can trust you."

Loki turned to face him again, a very curious look on his face. He tilted his chin up, as if to welcome this line of questioning, and his lips curled into the faintest smile.

"I would ask the same of you."

Tony lazily gestured the point of his screwdriver Loki's way. "I asked first."

Loki considered this for a moment, his smile fading. His eyes were on a screen nearby, where Thor's file was still projected. A candid shot of a younger Thor was on screen, where he smiled with a mouth half-full with food, his blond hair shorter and Earth clothes on his back. Near it, surveillance video of him and his brother fighting on Stark Tower looped, the two twisted close to each other with weapons at each other's necks.

"You can trust my rage."

A chill went down Tony's spine, but he still managed to wonder at how long Loki had been sitting on a line like that.

"You are rage, Loki."

He was proud of himself for that response, and the God seemed to be too. It was terribly perceptive of him, and Loki was impressed. Almost.

"Then yes. Trust me." Loki nodded, looking away from his brother. "I will do the courtesy of trusting you, in return."


End file.
